


can you tell that i want you (for the worse and for the better)

by softnesstrash



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (kinda? technically? Idk), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Descendants of the Sun AU, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Soldier!Enjolras, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Surgeon!Éponine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 55,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23419483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softnesstrash/pseuds/softnesstrash
Summary: “Do you flirt your way out of everything?” she asked, out of spite more than curiosity but he seemed to truly consider the question. She almost laughed at the serious face he pulled. Almost.“No, not exactly. I mean, I’m not looking for a way out here. Or a medical appointment to be honest, not really. Just a date.”What?“What?”“A date, doctor. As in some alone time with you. We could do dinner, we could do drinks. A movie? I’ll even take a walk on the docks at this point.”(in which they weren't exactly meant to meet but they do and it all goes downhill from there)
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Enjolras/Éponine Thénardier
Comments: 16
Kudos: 26





	1. heading for a small disaster

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello, I hope you're well!
> 
> I'll try to keep this one short so you can get to the story quick. It's been a while since I publicly published anything, be it on here or FF.net and I'm really nervous about it. As mentioned in the tags, this story is inspired by Descendants of the Sun which is one of my favourite korean dramas of all times (it's on Netflix if you wanna check it out). Most of the story is already planned/outlined and it doesn't follow every part of the drama so even if you've seen it, you're still in for a surprise or two (but really, check the drama, the chemistry between the two main leads is insane, most of the characters are endearing in their own special way, the cinematography is seriously breathtaking and it got all the good tropes, promise). I have no idea how regularly I'll update as I'm gonna quite busy til June to finish my first year (despite the quarantine, ha, ha, ha) but I'll do my best. I'm really having fun writing this, it's been helping me a lot lately as I tend to get into my own head rather easily so I'll make sure to finish it.
> 
> I'd like to apologise in advance for any grammatical mistake or weird sentences. This is totally unbeta'd, english isn't my first language, I also have zero medical nor military experience and even tho I'm using the Internet to the best of its capacities to find info and correct stuff, you might still read a load of nonsense. I'm also mixing stuff from the drama with actual information about the French Army, it's a bit of a mess so please be kind? But feel free to correct me in the comments if necessary, I'm always happy to learn pretty much anything.
> 
> The story's title is from "Things You Can't Change" by Rhys Lewis and I love, love, love that man. His voice and words make me cry on a regular basis and I'm so fine with that. Chapter's title is from "Body Gold" by Oh Wonder, love them (and I may or may not already have a whole playlist for that story, oops).
> 
> Now... enjoy I guess? I hope? Anyway, hope you'll have a good time with this x

It had been a Day™ — more like a Year™ but Éponine wasn’t the kind to complain in public, at least not sober — and the young surgeon wanted nothing more than to go home to sleep for fourteen hours straight. Actually, it was the plan, until her little shit of a brother ran away after being admitted _once again_. Like he couldn’t wait ten minutes, just for her shift to end, to do that. For her to leave work and leave him to deal with his never-ending hassles.

(She wouldn’t have left, obviously. She loved him too much for that but it’d serve him right for once.)

Gavroche had come in an hour ago, a teddy bear on each side of his head in lieu of a neck brace, circumstances of his accident and a succinct assessment of his injuries scribbled on his left calf, vaguely dizzy but very much determined to leave, even more so than usual. Convincing him to stay and get at least an X-ray was tough but he promised he’d stay put. Except he didn’t and here she was now, roaming the hospital to find that brazen kid. 

“What the hell did he get himself into this time?” she mumbled on her way to the lobby, out of breath and feeling way hotter than she was supposed to in this better-wear-multiple-layers-to-fight-the-cold weather. She vigorously shook the collar of her white coat with her right hand, unaware of her hair sticking out in every direction possible and how red and sweaty her face looked, earning a few odd looks here and there. Not that she’d have cared anyway, most of Le Musain Hospital’s employees had seen her in different states of disarray over the years of her residency. She spent more time here than anywhere else and working in the ER taught her how unimportant looks — and showers sometimes — could be.

She was ready to give up and leave a fuming, uncensored voice message on the Whatsapp family group chat — which mostly consisted of her little sister’s daily reminders to drink water and Gavroche, that reckless idiot, sharing weird memes — when she saw him in the lobby. Her right hand, still at her neck, let go of the coat as she took in the sight of her baby brother, bloodied, barely conscious, hauled by two men who seemed to have seen better days themselves. 

_Jesus Christ_. She had lost him for what, an hour or so and sure, he wasn’t totally fine before but he was up and running, even with a sprained ankle. How on Earth did he manage to get beaten up in the hospital’s vicinity? She’d have to check the CCTV later since he’d probably not tell her the truth as usual. But that was definitely not the point right now.

“Gavroche? Gavroche? Gav, I swear to God-” she’s abruptly stopped by not only one but two questions.

“Do you work here?”

“Do you know him?”

Short, direct, quick questions directed at her face by deep, commanding voices. Who were they, the goddamn police? Éponine had had her fair share of encounters with the authorities over the years and it took a lot more than a couple of entitled, arrogant men to impress her. Given the situation, there was a good chance those two were rather on the other side of the law. Not that it’d scare her any more than uniforms anyway. She threw a cold glare in the direction of the dark-haired one and without a word, turned back to her brother.

“Gavr- bloody hell, I should have known you’d get yourself into even more trouble, I’m gonna tie you up next time- Olivia, Olivia, can you get him to the ER? And tell Combeferre to get a look at him immediately please?” she asked a passing nurse. 

Thank God, she nodded wordlessly and quickly went to grab a wheelchair for the patient. The little shit kept mumbling, his voice low and head bobbing from side to side.

She did not like this, not one bit. How many times would she have to lecture him? How many times would he have to hit his fucking head to finally _get_ it? Deep down, Gav was a good kid but somehow he kept getting himself into all sorts of shady, shitty situations. Didn’t even have to try hard, oh no, and of course, he always ended up here, smiling through the pain of a broken arm, a dislocated shoulder or whatever injury he managed to get. He rarely answered her questions honestly, lying through his teeth with a smile. Always a smile, no matter how serious the situation was. 

But this time though, this time he wasn’t alone. This time, maybe, she could get to the bottom of this, whatever it was.

As soon as Olivia had her brother in the chair, Éponine’s attention shifted back to the men who brought him in. The dark-haired one was already looking at her, a frown on his beautiful face.

Oh, _well_.

There was no point in denying it. Dark green eyes, high cheekbones and a jawline that looked like it could cut marble. He was, indeed, beautiful. Despite the busted lip, which brought Éponine back to reality.

“Look, I don’t know what business you gentlemen are running but Gav will stay out of it from now on, I can promise you that. And so will I, granted that you leave the hospital quietly. Or I could involve our security team, they’re very competent lads, it’s up to you.”

“This young man, what was it? Gavroche, right?” The other man, some tall, white dude with surprisingly gentle eyes, intervened, his tone softer than Éponine would have expected. “I think he stole my phone, alright, and-”

“You beat him up for a phone? Are you fucking serious?” 

Her hands closed into fists again her hips and for a second, just a tiny second, Éponine really considered crushing that dickhead’s nose right there and then. She must have moved because before she knew it, the other one — Pretty Boy — grabbed her arm, inserting himself between her and his stupid friend, shielding the man with his whole body. It seemed natural, as if he’d done that a thousand times before. 

“We did not beat him up, we’re not responsible for that part, doctor…” his eyes left her face for her coat, looking for a name, “... Thénardier?”

She stiffened under his touch and he probably felt it, letting her go immediately. Or did he think she wasn’t a threat to his buddy anymore? Either way, he raised his hands in peace, a strange look on his face and took a step back, in sync with his friend.

“I’ll admit we’re kind of responsible for him getting here in the first place ma’am- doctor” White Dude said, still very calm. “We, well, sort of ran into Gavroche earlier? He tried to ride through a café's terrace on what seemed to be a stolen bike and we happened to be in the way, I guess? Patched him up before the ambulance got there but-”

“The teddy bears, that was you? What happened?” she cut him off again, keeping an eye on the other one.

You could never trust a Pretty Boy, never. And she had a weird feeling about that one.

“Let’s not get into details, alright?” Pretty Boy replied, hands on his hips.

Maybe she was imagining things, maybe she’d reached a whole new level of exhaustion where she was now having hallucinations but the man seemed _amused._ As if that whole thing, her injured brother, the hospital, everything was a _joke_ to him. 

“Let’s not get into details?” she repeated, stunned.

(God, she needed sleep, she was usually so quick-witted.)

“Yeah, my friend here just needs his phone, we won’t press charges, we just need the phone and we’ll be… out of your hair” he said the last few words with a smile — one she definitely did not imagine and she wasn’t sure why but suddenly, her cheeks felt a little hot — not looking her quite in the eyes.

Shit, her hair. Her hair was a mess from slaving away in the ER all day and running around to find Gavroche. 

Wait, why would she care anyway? 

Goddamn Pretty Boy.

“I’m calling the security-”

A hand covered the screen of her phone, grabbing her own. Fucking hell, what was it with this stranger and physical contact? Did he have no sense of boundaries?

“There’s no need for that. You see, we’re soldiers, just two honest men on a much deserved break from work, we were just passing by really and all we want-”

“A phone. I’m not deaf” she spat.

“Yeah but you seem to have a very short attention span.”

She scoffed, even though she was less annoyed by his quick wit than she probably should have been. That was the whole problem of dedicating her life to her job, the tiniest of social interaction was welcome and stimulating.

“Look, I get it, you don’t believe us and I admit this is a bit suspicious-”

“You’re bleeding.”

“I’m really trying here, could you maybe-”

“No, you’re bleeding” Éponine repeated, shaking his hand away from hers to point at the dark stain slowly growing on his right side, above his appendix.

_What the fuck_?

He looked down and groaned, sounding more irritated than hurt, as if it was more an inconvenience to him than an actual, serious medical issue. With a steady hand, he lifted his blue sweater only to reveal a soiled bandage across what looked like toned muscles.

“Come with me” she ordered him, putting her phone back into her pocket, all thoughts of calling the security staff long gone. She’d pledged an oath after all and Pretty Boy, whoever he was, needed medical assistance. For now, at least. Maybe later too, if he got on her nerves and happened to be on the receiving end of a punch.

“What?”

“Are you deaf?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Come with me, I’ll take care of that” she added with a nod to the injury he had yet to cover.

He finally let go of the sweater and acquiesced before turning to his buddy.

“Here, try to get a hold of Courfeyrac and tell him I bumped into a charming doctor so we’re probably gonna miss our train back, that should keep his blabbering trap busy. No need to tell him the rest for now, everyone on base would know by the time we come back and that would be a pain in my ass. Hey, how about calling Cosette? We gonna need a ride anyway” he added with a cheeky grin, handing out his phone to the man.

White Dude’s cheeks turned so red Éponine could have burst into laughter right there and then if she wasn’t stuck on the name that left Pretty Boy’s lips mere seconds ago.

_Cosette_. It wasn’t such a common name. She had known one, a long time ago. Surely it couldn’t be the same person. That kind of coincidences only happened in sappy Hallmark romcoms and those cheesy novels that were always laying in the break room of the second floor.

“Who’s Cosette?” she asked once the elevator’s doors had close on them. Very cool, very calm, good job Ép.

Pretty Boy leaned down to her level, a smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

“Why do you wanna know? I can assure you it’s in no way relevant to my medical condition.”

“Maybe not but it could have helped confirm your story” she fired back, making sure to look straight ahead. Given her exhaustion, she was in no physical state to deal with this.

(This being his whole fucking face and God, that jawline)

“How come?” He sounded genuinely interested, his tone lacking the teasing bite from before. Good.

“I went to med school with a girl named Cosette. Pretty sure it’s not that common of a name but then again, that kind of coincidence-”

“Fauchelevent. That’s her family name. Rings any bell in that beautiful head of yours?”

So he was, indeed, flirting. With her. In an hospital, while he was bleeding through his bandage and clothes. When she was clearly not trusting anything that was coming out of his mouth and straight up accused him of beating up her brother. 

Seriously, _what the fuck_?

She looked at him for a second or two, one too long probably, and shivered, despite the many layers of clothes underneath her white coat. It was the exhaustion, it was the loneliness, the weeks she’d spent here doing her best and more, the stress of keeping an eye on her reckless little shit of a brother, the guilt of having Azelma comfort her when it wasn’t her role. She was weak, a lonely, overworked mess and that beautiful face was hitting her when she was down. 

Hitting _on_ her. And she was mostly fine with it. God, how long had it been since she last went on a date? 

She could feel her cheeks warming up every second that passed and despite her better judgement, she looked down, her eyes leaving his face — and mouth — for her fidgeting hands. He was still watching her though, she _knew_ it, probably expecting an answer too. Yeah, to hell with that, she didn’t give a flying fuck about who he was, whether he was a thug or an actual soldier, how he knew a former classmate of hers, if Gavroche owed him anything or simply stole his buddy’s phone. She didn’t want to know, she wanted him _out_. Of her sight, of her hospital. Quick.

But he was bleeding. Right.

As if the universe decided to help her out, the elevator’s doors finally opened at the ER floor. Éponine let out a sigh and bolted, barely acknowledging him. She heard him chuckle behind her as he started following her but neither breathed out a word until they reached an empty examination room. 

“Get in” Éponine ordered with a brief hand gesture. 

Pretty Boy did not move one inch.

“I don’t have all day. Either get in there or get the fuck out of this hospital. Without that phone you so desperately want” she added, throwing a defiant look his way.

Another deep, amused chuckle that reached her core, spreading a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. _Damn it_.

Thankfully, Pretty Boy decided to not fight her on it and entered the room. As she was closing the door, he started discarding his clothes, his coat and sweater casually thrown on the table.

“Put those away, you need to lie down on that” Éponine told him as she absentmindedly washed her hands. 

“I think you should buy me dinner first.”

There he was again, shamelessly flirting. What a strange, strange man.

(What was stranger though was how she did not mind it one bit.)

“I think I’m gonna stab you f-” but the rest of the word died on her lips when she turned around and found him laying down, eyes focused on the ceiling, a khaki undershirt half rolled up to grant her access to his bandage. Oh, well.

_Alright Thénardier, you got this_. He was only a patient, one she decided to treat on her free time it would seem, on top of everything. A quick look to her watch told her her shift had officially ended but what was one more case in an already long day? That was, obviously, the only reason she put on gloves and got to work, delicately lifting the bandage off.

(No, no it probably wasn’t the only reason but there was no one to judge her or call her out on her bullshit except herself.)

“So…” she started, the silence getting on her nerves. “How did this happen?”

“I think one of the men Pontmercy and I met thanks to that boy might have hit me a little harder than I thought, I-”

“What men?”

Their eyes met, worry on one side, amusement on the other. He shook his head with a sigh, turning back to the ceiling, seemingly unbothered by the aggressive neon lights.

“It is quite hard to have a conversation with someone who keeps interrupting you, you know.” 

She rolled her eyes and if she pressed the wound with a little too much force, well, no one was there to witness it.

Pretty Boy hissed in pain though and glared at her, all sign of amusement now gone. Good. 

“If that’s how you treat all your patients, I really pity them” he groaned as she kept wiping blood around what looked like a nasty cut. A fresh one at that. 

“Only the ones who might have tried to beat my baby brother to a pulp- you opened up your stitches by the way, stay still.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve stepped foot in a- hold on, _brother_?” He sat up just as Éponine started to stitch him up, pain twisting his face. 

Without thinking twice, she pushed his chest back into the examination table, her hand flat against his heart. 

“I told you to stay still. I’m no plastic surgeon but I make pretty decent stitches. You could possibly avoid adding a new scar to your collection if you would just stay put, alright?”

She was expecting another witty comeback but only got a smile as he relaxed onto the table.

“Yes ma’am” he added after a second or two. “I’m fine with scars though.”

Yes, clearly. She could only see half of his stomach but there was quite a few of them across his skin. Too many for him to be an ordinary man.

“So your brother’s a thief, mh?” How could he possibly try to pleasantly chat as she was sewing up his wound when mere seconds ago he clearly sounded hurt, she wasn’t sure — and wouldn’t ask.

“That’s none of your business.”

“He did steal from us you know” he reminded her and even though she was focusing on the work, she could hear the smile in his tone. Dickhead.

“And you made him pay for that so I’d say you’re even.”

“We didn’t. Actually, I think he owes us for saving his ass earlier. Your fancy hospital got a security team, right? Then you must have cameras all over the place too, I suggest you check the footage in the parking lot before making any harsh decision like calling the police. That’d be quite the nuisance for us.”

He sounded sincere, she’d give him that but Éponine knew better than to take someone’s words at face value. She knew Gavroche ran around with dangerous crowds, she’d met some of his, well, acquaintances more than once and even if that man seemed different, it didn’t mean anything. Moreover, it sounded like a great escape plan for him, throwing her a bone to keep her busy while he and his lanky buddy run away. No, absolutely not happening.

And as if he was reading her mind, he chuckled. “I’ll come with you so you can keep an eye on me and make sure I don’t vanish.”

It wasn’t a question, wasn’t a suggestion either, just another proof that he was used to calling the shots. And ok, it was a good idea, obviously, and fighting him on it, just for the sake of it, would have been really childish but _God_ , she wanted to.

The wound was finally clean, stitches redone and a clean bandage covering it all up. Éponine pulled back his tee-shirt before getting up to throw away her gloves. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really grateful for this but isn’t a bit weird to take care of someone you think hurt a member of your family?” He asked, feet dangling in the air like a kid.

A quick smile lightened her tired face then she shrugged.

“Hippocratic oath, rings any bell in that beautiful head of yours?” 

Oh no. She was flirting back, right? No, no, no.

But too late, she said it and he heard it and there was no possible way to take it back. Well, fuck, it had been a long day or year or whatever. And there was still a chance that he and his buddy were not, in fact, responsible for Gavroche’s physical state, so it wasn’t that bad, right?

He smirked, the bastard. “And, you know, admission procedure and all?” 

“My shift’s over, I’m not gonna waste any more time here doing paperwork for a few stitches.”

“See, that? We can agree on, paperwork is a nightmare. One I’d sadly have to go through if you called the police you know.”

“Oh yeah, it’s a proper nightmare to sit still while a policeman types in your deposition with only two fingers, I get it” she deadpanned. 

“You still don’t believe me, alright. But what about Cosette though? You seemed a bit, startled? Yes, startled, when I mentioned her name. You know her, right?”

Cosette. Right. That part had already slipped her mind. Long day, exhausted and all that. And sure, she’d been a bit dazed at the unexpected connection between that complete stranger and an old acquaintance but that wasn’t all there had been to her reaction. It was probably for the best not to correct him anyway. She had already made the mistake to engage in banter and that was enough fuckery for one day.

“It doesn’t mean anything, we’ve never been close, she could be a mafia boss now for all I know.”

Ok, maybe that was a bit of a stretch. She clearly remembered the girl and her warm smile, talking about her family and its old ties to the military, some kind of legacy bullshit Éponine hadn’t been interested in back then and, frankly, still wasn’t. Sure, it could possibly corroborate Pretty Boy’s story but still.

“A mafia boss? Seriously? What kind of people do your brother fraternise with?” He huffed, getting back on his feet only to stand there, staring at her, hands on his hips. _Demanding_ an actual answer.

“Again, that’s none of your business.” _Are you deaf_ , she wanted to add but considering their previous exchanges, it definitely wasn’t a good idea. He’d take it the wrong way. Hell, _she_ would too. “You need to clean and sanitise it every time you change the bandage so ideally, twice a day for starters. Clean hands and all that. Were you prescribed any medication?”

Thank God, no one had walked in on her performing unofficial medical care on an absolute stranger well after the end of her shift but the evidence needed to disappear and it needed to do so _fast_. She’d rarely cleaned an examination room this quick, neither had she ever hauled a patient out of it but hey, there was a first time for everything.

Pretty Boy was either too surprised to fight it or decided to humour her for a bit, she didn’t know and didn’t really care, but they found themselves back to the elevator hallway soon enough.

“So, medication?” Éponine insisted, making sure to look straight ahead. Yes, good, professional, safe questions. Perfect.

“Are you making a medical move on me? Because I would love to come back tomorrow for my treatment.”

“I don’t think the police allow perps to go out once in custody and I never said you needed any treatment from an healthcare professional anyway. Anyone can change a bandage, granted that they wash-”

“Their hands, yes, we got the basic rules of hygiene down in the army too, it comes in handy” he joked, stepping closer to Éponine.

She could see him in the corner of her eyes, waiting for that goddamn elevator with a smile. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long to find the right security footage and wrap up this mess. Just a little longer and she could go home and forget all about Pretty Boy and that weird, tingling feeling that bloody smile inspired in her.

* * *

It did not, in fact, take long for the control room operator to find the footage Éponine was interested in. Not long at all, quite the contrary actually. 

When she walked into the room, a small group of employees had gathered around the screen. The surgeon spotted the three men who worked there regularly, one of her colleagues from the ER and the director of the facility, happily watching what looked like an entertaining bit. _Jesus Christ_ , she didn’t have time for this.

“Oh, Thénardier, you’re looking for some-” the director started to ask before his eyes fell on Pretty Boy, shocked. No, not shocked. Impressed. What, impressed? Really? That was the kind of looks he only gave his female employees, occasionally some patients as well. Men though? Never. Until now, that is.

Well, she didn’t know he played for that team as well and almost felt pity for the man she just patched up. Charles Babet was one of the rudest, most entitled men Éponine ever had the displeasure to meet — and she’d met her fair share of dickheads in her life. He had close to no filter when it came to talking with his employees, loved to brag about his staff’s accomplishments as if they were his own and thought very highly of himself, especially when it came to women. Éponine had learned that on her very first week of residency when he had the nerves to try and make a pass at her right next to the nurses’ office in the ER. Since then, most of their encounters had left her grossed out and dead set on avoiding him at all costs. 

“Director” she mumbled, trying to look past him to get one of the operators’ attention.

“That’s you” she heard behind her.

Oh _no_. 

Babet had gotten to Pretty Boy, the biggest, grossest smile she’d ever seen on his face. What the fuck was that?

“On the tape, right there?” The director gestured to the screens behind him and finally, _finally_ Éponine managed to get a clear view.

And what a view that was.

See, she wasn’t exactly a big fan of action movies, never had been, never would be but if they all looked like what was playing on the screens, maybe she’d like them a little more. Pretty Boy and White Dude, perfectly coordinated as if they had rehearsed this like some kind of dance choreography, were giving a dozen of rough-looking, scary guys the whooping of the decade. Precise, harsh hits with open hands, hard enough to bruise but not enough to break. Feet flying way higher than they normally would. Éponine nearly jumped when one of the thugs went for Pretty Boy’s. The man shifted to his side before spinning, his right foot coming up straight for the stomach. She turned away from the screen, only to find Pretty Boy’s green eyes on her, watching her with _that_ smile again, the smug bastard.

“You-” she started but the director rudely interrupted her, as if she wasn't even there. Well, that was a first.

“We’ll call the authorities, I mean, you clearly saved that young man over there” one of his fingers entered Éponine’s sight to point at the footage. “But still, you should press charges, that was, well, they pretty much assaulted you, so-”

“That won’t be necessary sir, my comrade and I were only helping out. Besides, my superiors wouldn’t exactly appreciate it if they knew we ran into the police while on leave” Pretty Boy politely explained, with the exact amount of deference necessary to flatter the director’s ego. Damn it, he was good.

“On leave?”

“We’re soldiers sir, only helping out a civilian who looked like he needed it” he slightly bowed, almost the perfect picture of humility. Almost, yeah, saved for the cheeky grin he sent Éponine’s way as soon as the director wasn’t looking.

“I see, I see… well, it’s not like we can identify those men anyway, it’s not our job but I believe you scared them for good” the director guffawed naively, clapping Pretty Boy on the shoulder like they were old friends. Then finally, he seemed to remember Éponine was there too. Dickhead. “Thénardier, did you need something?”

Yes, for him to disappear from her life maybe.

“No sir, I just came to confirm that man’s story, he actually came with a patient who’s in a pretty bad shape and I had to make sure he wasn’t responsible for it.”

For some reasons, Babet seemed personally offended by the implication and glared at her, a hand on his heart.

“My, Thénardier, do you have to be so suspicious of everyone? Do you really think anyone would bring in someone they assaulted?”

She shrugged, unbothered by his intense gaze and disapproving tone. “Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing I’ve seen here… sir.”

Better stay polite with the man, she didn’t need to give him any reason to pay more attention to her than he normally would.

“Well, in any case… I thank you for your service, mh?”

“Captain” Pretty Boy provided, taking the hand Babet had extended to him.

“Captain, right. Thénardier?” Oh boy, _what now_? “Go rest for a bit, will you? You look like hell, a shame for such a beautiful face. And we can’t have you scare patients any more than you already do now, can we?”

Charming, really. And to think that disgusting little man was in charge of her future in this hospital.

Ignoring her guts that were screaming for her to curse him and all of his family on several generations, Éponine managed to smile. Not for long, just enough for the man to see it and disappear. 

“Well, that was rude.”

“Sorry?”

“That was rude” Pretty Boy repeated with a kind smile. “You don’t seem that scary.”

“But I look like a mess?”

“I didn’t say that” he whispered softly. “I mean, sure, your hair is a bit all over the place but you have a stressful job and I don’t think looks really matter in your field, right?”

She had no idea why she was letting a stranger comfort her but damn, that was rather nice. Slightly uncomfortable, she looked away, fighting the urge to smile. What was wrong with her, seriously? Just because his Nice Guy act worked on Babet didn’t mean she was buying it. Sure, he had probably saved her brother from much serious injuries but Gavroche had gotten here in the first place because of him. And there he was, consoling her? No, not happening.

“Do you wanna stay and watch a little more?” She jumped at that, taking a step back when she realised he was much closer than expected.

“No. Let’s go.”

“What now?”

“I need to know if I’m gonna sue your ass or not.”

* * *

“For the last time, Ép, I’m _fine_ ” Gavroche groaned, obviously annoyed.

His sister glared at him over the charts she’d been reading for the past five minutes, both relieved and annoyed by the list of his injuries. “You have a broken rib, a sprained ankle _and_ a concussion. Don’t get me started on your face. Where’s the phone Gav?”

“What phone?”

Sure, to most people, Gavroche was a good liar, he looked innocent enough for some to fall for his sweet smile and shiny curls but he should have known better than try to play dumb with her. Without missing a beat, Éponine slapped his injured ankle with the charts.

“Ép!” he groaned in pain. Good.

“Where is the damn phone, Gav? Give it back before that dude over there decides to press charges” she added, nodding in Pretty Boy’s general direction.

He had been leaning on the wall, next to the door of the examination room, silently, probably with still wearing that goddamn smile on his face, but the surgeon refused to look at him. She had more than enough of it and needed him out of the hospital as quick as possible.

“We won’t.”

There in the doorway stood White Dude and-

“Cosette” Éponine whispered, a bit surprised. 

Yes, she _knew_ her former classmate might come to Le Musain but still, somehow, she didn’t expect to see her there. It had been years now since they had last laid eyes on each other but the other woman hadn’t changed that much. Her blond hair was shorter, yes, but she still had that sweet face. Her signature warm smile, though, was nowhere to be seen.

“Éponine, long time no see” she nodded before assessing the situation before her eyes. 

There was no malice in her gaze as she gauged Éponine, only curiosity, but the surgeon still felt uneasy. Back in the day, Cosette was the rich, popular girl everyone genuinely liked, everyone but Éponine. They had never officially been in competition with one another — except they totally had and it had all started with a _guy_. Stupid, yes, but she remembered it all too well, how Cosette had kept overshadowing her. With that boy, with their common friends, in class too. And here she was, in her impeccable uniform — so she did honor her father’s legacy in the army after all — next to the sweaty, disheveled Éponine. Some things truly never changed.

“Oh, you’re there too” Cosette acknowledged Pretty Boy's presence — was that a _snarl_?

Éponine bit her cheek to stop herself from smiling, both surprised and delighted to see the blonde princess drop the usual sweetness. Damn, she almost regretted that they had never been friends. There was a story there and she was dying to know all about it.

“Happy to see you too Fauchevelent. See, I brought him back in one piece, just like I promised” he clapped White Dude on the shoulder before leaving his arm there, partially blocking Éponine’s view at the same time, with a big, bright smile that was nothing if not fake.

“Yeah, I can see that. Although maybe next time, don’t end up in a hospital the minute you get back in Paris” the blonde coldly suggested, crossing her arms over her chest.

Oh, how desperately Éponine wanted to know what going on there.

“How come you’re already here by the way? I know you work across the city” Pretty Boy cocked his head to the side, a frown creasing his forehead.

“I got a call from Marius’ phone two hours ago from a nurse saying that the owner of that very phone was brought in after a bike accident, so I got here as soon as I could.”

“Of course you did. Now, can you please confirm our identity to the doc over there, she thinks we’re some kind of criminals” he scoffed, as if that was the most ridiculous thing ever. For him, maybe. But for Éponine, despite the CCTV footage, it still wasn’t that outlandish. 

“Yeah, just call the police Éponine, they’re deserters” Cosette declared over the men’s shoulders before she promptly left.

Oh, well.

“Oi, have some respect for the hierarchy Fauchelevant! Fau- mate, follow her, if she leaves without us, we’re screwed. I don't wanna pay for another taxi ride” he urged his buddy who quietly nodded before following suit. “I’ll never understand those two” Pretty Boy whispered to himself, probably unaware that Éponine caught it.

And Gavroche too, judging from the vaguely mocking look on his bruised face. She slapped his ankle again and he winced, nearly jumping off the bed.

“What was that for?”

“For ruining my day, you little shit. Do you really wanna end up like mum and dad, huh? You’re lucky they’re not pressing charges” she reminded him, anger pouring from her eyes.

Her brother had the decency to look ashamed for a second before he started mumbling to himself, too low for Éponine to get any of it. She didn't have to, not really. They had had that conversation many times before, with different levels of shouting. Maybe she had been a bit harsh, yes, and she knew he hated whenever she brought up their parents but still. He was 19 and had been told off by the cops too many times for him not to get into serious troubles the next time he’d be caught. 

“Seriously Gav-”

“Pontmercy might not wanna sue but I have conditions.”

Oh, right, Pretty Boy. She had almost forgotten about him. Wait, _what_?

“Excuse me? Conditions? Who do you think you are?” She threw the charts on her brother’s legs, barely hearing his grunt of pain, and marched to the man, quite ready to kick him out of the room — and frankly, the hospital altogether — herself.

He didn’t take any step back, didn’t budge one bit when she stopped under his nose, furious. A little too close? Definitely but Éponine was past caring about boundaries at this point.

“We won’t press charges if he agrees to get his shit together. Properly.”

The _nerves_.

“What a noble thought” she sneered, shaking her head, and yet he was still not looking at her, just watching Gavroche intensely. 

For a moment there, neither of them said a word. She could hear her brother’s clothes ruffling as he tried to find a comfortable position on the table. Or was he slowly shrinking under the older man’s gaze? Possible but Éponine wasn’t about to turn around to check.

“Did you know he was involved with a gang? The men from the footage? Mh?” Gone was the cheeky smile and flirty tone, replaced by an indecipherable look and what sounded like condescension at first to Éponine’s ears. “Or do you think it’s just petty thefts and pickpocketing for fun?”

For a second too long, she was at a loss for words. She had faced racism and ignorance her whole life though, had people giving her nasty looks whenever she spoke arabic in public, classmates looking down on her after learning bits about her childhood and her dysfunctional family, snarky comments about her upbringing and how she’d most likely end up selling drugs like her father. Pretty Boy knew none of that and sure, it could just be blatant racism based on nothing but the colour of her skin and her brother's behaviour, but Éponine wasn’t sure of it. She could always tell, usually, but this felt different. It couldn’t possibly be concern, right? Coming from an absolute stranger?

She tried to hold her grounds as his eyes finally met hers. “It’s none of your business.” Her voice sounded weak. Fuck.

“Look, I just wanna talk to your brother. Give me five minutes with him and I’ll be out of your hair for good. Or we can call the police. That’s my condition. Simple terms, really.”

“I thought it’d be a nuisance.”

“I’ll deal with the paperwork and my superiors if I have to” he affirmed, exuding confidence.

“I-”

“Ép, it’s fine” Gavroche intervened behind her. “Your shift’s over anyway, just go, I’ll call you later. Zel’s coming soon anyway.”

“My shift’s never over when it comes to you, you idiot” she muttered angrily.

And then it was back, Pretty Boy’s _smile_. It lasted only for a second but she saw it. God, what was it with this man, seriously?

“Do you mind?” he asked, softly, as he moved to the side, clearly inviting her to leave the room.

  
Really, the _fucking nerves_.

* * *

She waited and waited and waited. Five minutes, Pretty Boy had said. Five minutes wasn’t enough for her to go change out of her coat and scrubs then come back before he left so she had decided to stay, leaning against the wall in front of that bloody door. Waited, again and again. Fives minutes turned into ten, ten into twenty.

She was about to doze off against the wall when nurses finally came into the examination room and _he_ appeared, that same unnerving smile on his face. Éponine didn’t move, avoiding his gaze as best she could. She wasn’t one to get easily impressed by other people, especially menbut there was something unusual about that one. Or maybe she was just too tired to deal with it all. Maybe, yes.

“So, can I come back tomorrow?”

Oh, that again. Seriously.

“It’s a bandage, I think you’re qualified to change it yourself” she snorted, rolling her eyes without thinking. 

So some patients could be a bit, well, irritating. It happened and usually, she had no problem ignoring it and pretending it didn’t get to her. But again, it had been a Day. Who could blame her?

“Yes but then I wouldn’t see you, would I?” He whispered softly as he leaned on his side against the wall next to her.

_Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t_ \- fuck, that smile.

Yes, fuck that smile.

“Do you flirt your way out of everything?” she asked, out of spite more than curiosity but he seemed to truly consider the question. She almost laughed at the serious face he pulled. Almost.

“No, not exactly. I mean, I’m not looking for a way out here. Or a medical appointment to be honest, not really. Just a date.”

_What_?

“What?”

“A date, doctor. As in some alone time with you. We could do dinner, we could do drinks. A movie? I’ll even take a walk on the docks at this point” he admitted, a genuine glint dancing in his green eyes.

“I don’t know you, I mean, I don’t even know your _name_.”

That was, admittedly, a weak response and yet the best argument she managed to come up with. If she was honest, Éponine was a bit disappointed in herself. Avoiding social complications such as hangouts and whatnot that could potentially be uncomfortable and cancelling plans were two of her favourite hobbies but she did it best when sprawled on her bed in her pajamas. Clearly, her exhausted self was no match for a cheeky grin and a sharp jawline.

And, really, would it be so bad to just say yes? Sure, he was a stranger but people usually got to know each other through dates. Right? Her last relationship was nothing more than a memory by now but the game couldn’t have changed that much in only a couple of years.

She was still debating with herself when Pretty Boy reached inside his sweater and pulled out a necklace. No, not just a necklace. Tags, dog tags. His free hand wandered a moment inside his coat before presenting a card. His military ID, Éponine assumed. She reached for it on an impulsive, her finger brushing over his name. 

Alexandre Enjolras. 

“You don’t think you could have shown me all of that earlier?” she asked with a smile, studying the small picture. No smile, just a neutral, albeit a bit stern, look. It didn’t really look like the flirty little shit she had to deal with for the past hour.

“I’m pretty sure you’re aware we can buy these on Amazon” he shrugged and put back his tags under his clothes. “You already didn’t trust me, I was pretty sure an ID, no matter how official, wouldn’t change your mind.”

Well, he wasn’t totally off with that guess. Maybe her trust issues were more obvious than she thought.

“And you think I did now?” she asked, eyes still focus on the card. It seemed legit, sure, but after all, she had never seen anything like this before.

But did she trust him? Maybe.

“Well, I’m not sure, I’d say no if I really had to pick but I figured, since you didn’t barge into that room after five minutes, then maybe you were giving me some credit. And you’re still here so...” he trailed off, gaze most likely still focused on her, she could feel it.

Amused, she scoffed and returned the card, shaking her head.

“What? Am I wrong?”

Was he?

“No, I guess you’re not, Captain.”

His fingers brushed against hers when he finally took back his ID and another wave of warmth flooded her in that cold, sanitized hallway. So she couldn't even blame the temperature. It was all him. Oh, that was bad, that was _really_ bad.

“So? Do you wanna go out with me sometimes soon? Let’s say, tomorrow?” Pretty Boy — Enjolras, she reminded herself, _Alexandre_ — suggested.

She didn’t even try to fight back her smile this time. “You realise you’re hitting on me at my workplace?”

“Isn’t your shift over though?”

There was definitely no winning at that game of his, not for her at least, and she was ready to give up.

“I won’t have the last word with you, right?”

It made him laugh, a genuine, loud one that echoed on the white walls. A nice sound too, warm. Like his smile.

“I’m really rooting for you Doc, you should keep trying. Who knows, you might get lucky tomorrow.” 

What a smooth bastard.

“Fine, give me your phone” she finally gave in, her cheeks a little redder than they were moments ago. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna steal it, just put my number in it”

“Really?” He sounded surprised, pleasantly so but still surprised.

“Yes, really.”

“We gonna have a bit of a problem then. Pontmercy still got my phone. My friend” he added when Éponine frowned at the name. “But give me yours, I’ll save my number for you, then you can decide if you wanna give me a call or not about tomorrow. How does that sound?”

Good. Refreshing too. Not that she was really used to being hit on that much but men rarely gave her an out that easily. She usually had to make one for herself. It was nice to know she could go home and never call him if she wanted to, what a pleasant change. One that could truly work in Pretty Boy’s favour too.

“There you go” he said, returning her phone once he was done typing. “I’ll let you decide what you wanna save me as, although most people call me Enjolras.”

“Good for you but I’m not using that.”

Pretty Boy sounded way better in her opinion. Not that she’d tell him that.

“You’re not gonna tell what’s my name in there, right?” he assumed, gesturing at the phone that she was already putting back in her pocket, the nickname already attached to his number.

Éponine shook her head with a smile. “That’s none of your business.”

“See, hearing those words again, I’m starting to think you were really flirting with me all along Doc.”

“Oh yeah, men who take my injured brother to the hospital are truly my weakness” she smirked.

Pretty Boy suddenly softened. “He seems like a good kid.”

“Can I know what you’ve been talking about in there?”

He stayed quiet for a while, eyes on the ground, pondering the question, his face left in the open for Éponine to scrutinise. His skin seemed soft, despite a few scars she noted here and there, memories of years of service certainly. She wondered how old he was, regretting not checking his birth date when she had the chance to. Around her age maybe? His flirty, almost childish-like behaviour seemed to confirm that. Maybe she’d ask, if she decided to call him for that date. Maybe.

And finally he straightened up, the tiniest of smiles slightly stretching his lips. “I’ll let him tell you, if he wants to.”

Was she disappointed? Yes, a bit but there was something else, something she couldn’t put her finger on just yet. After a good night of sleep maybe — so not anytime soon then, between work and Gavroche, she had too much to deal with to properly rest.

“Alright. I’ll let you get back to your friend. His phone must be in the nurses’ office if they called Cosette with it” she stopped for a second, looking at the door of the room her brother was still in. He'd been left alone for too long already. “I-”

“I’ll find my way back.”

Was he a mind-reader, on top of everything?

“Take care, Doc” he nodded, flashing one last smile before he turned away to leave.

Yes, what a strange, strange man. Maybe she’d call him. Maybe.

Gavroche was squirming on the bed when she entered the room again, his eyes drowsy with sleep. With a sigh, Éponine took off her coat before dropping on the chair that had been brought closer to the table. By Pretty Boy, most likely. 

No. Enjolras. Right. _Alex_ , her brain provided, that shameless little traitor.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet, genius” Éponine groaned, poking her brother on his left side.

“What?”

“You have a concussion, remember? We gotta be careful” she reminded him and damn, if those words didn’t have a nasty déjà-vu feeling. “Besides, you and I need to have a little chat. I don’t know what that soldier did to you but trust me, I’m gonna be much, much worse.”


	2. head in the clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You got plans? She called?” Marius inquired, a bright smile on his face.
> 
> His comrade’s naturally cheerful demeanor was often a source of comfort for Enjolras. Pontmercy was an optimist at heart, always had something nice to say and liked to see the best in people, which made him a perfect right-hand man to balance out the captain’s colder presence, both in the latter’s opinion and their hierarchy’s. It came in handy sometimes, Enjolras wouldn’t deny it, but right now? Right now, it was annoying.
> 
> “No. Not yet” Enjolras added a second too late and it didn’t go unnoticed.
> 
> “So you’re not sure she’s gonna call” his friend chortled, much to Enjolras’ dismay. “Which is sad, of course” he continued, too serious this time, blatantly trying to correct his mistake. “But I gotta admit it’s a bit fun to see you not getting your way.”
> 
> “Glad I can keep you entertained Pontmercy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello, how are you? I know it’s been basically forever but I’ve been really busy with school and online exams which ended up being quite the challenge considering my stupid cat knocked over a glass of water over my laptop a few weeks before my final deadline (I wish I was joking) and then I managed to travel back home for the first time since January and well, the post-lockdown fam reunion was a Lot. Anyways, here’s another chapter, hope you’ll like it!
> 
> Quick disclaimer, I pretty much don’t own anything except some mistakes and typos because this is unbeta’d and I learned English thanks to fanfiction.net and Netflix. Almost all characters are Victor Hugo’s, plot is heavily inspired by the korean drama ‘Descendants of the Sun’, fic’s title from a song by Rhys Lewis titled ‘Things You Can’t Change’ (his debut album must be out by the time this will be up, give it a listen, the man’s a gem) and chapter’s title is from a song by the band Oh Wonder, ‘Body Gold’.
> 
> Also I’m a hoe for the aesthetics so here’s a [Pinterest board](https://www.pinterest.fr/valtrashen/f-can-you-tell-that-i-want-you/) I put together for this fic x

Enjolras was slowly drowning in paperwork as the details of the last mission were starting to blend with old assignments, when Marius walked through the door, his own report in hands. How did he always manage to finish first was totally beyond Enjolras but he always had, in all those years they had been in the same company, even when their missions got messy. Thankfully, the last one in Sudan had been a success, save for Bossuet’s dislocated shoulder. Nothing serious, they even dealt with it on site but it needed to be noted. Even if it was just typical Bossuet, really.

“I suppose you’re done?” Enjolras sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He loved his job, he truly did but he could live his whole life without filing another report and he’d be the happiest man on Earth.

“And you’re not I guess” Marius chuckled, dropping on one of the two chairs facing his friend’s desk.

It almost felt like a tradition at this point, them sitting there while Enjolras desperately tried to navigate his way through endless paperwork. Saint-Cyr had prepared him for it, yes, but despite graduating at the top of his class, he still dreaded getting back to his desk whenever they got home. He understood the necessity of reporting, sure, but he still despised the army’s bureaucracy with a passion. Not to mention the irony of leading a special forces team that most people had no idea existed. There was evidence of it though, stocks and stocks of records and mission reports full of it, and he had written countless of them over the past five years. 

“You know, sometimes I wonder why I’m sitting there and you’re on the other side of that damn desk” he groaned, deleting an unnecessary line about Bossuet’s shoulder. After all, no one needed to know how long the man had whined on the flight back to base.

“You should have thought about that before you decided to spend three years in a military academy my friend.”

Yes, well, probably but 21 years old Alexandre Enjolras was dreaming of following his father’s footsteps. Almost every man in their family had been a student at the Special Military School of Saint-Cyr and despite the love and support his parents had always showered him with, he still felt like he had to _prove_ he belonged with them then. That he, too, was an Enjolras, even if they didn’t share the same blood. He’d done them proud then but admittedly, becoming an officer had its downsides. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do than stay and watch this?” 

Marius shrugged and crossed his legs, relaxing onto his seat. “Not really, no. I thought we could get drinks with the boys once you’re done, you know, to celebrate Bossuet getting back with all his limbs still attached to his body.”

The poor lad had faced more injuries, minor or more severe, than anyone else since the team was put together. He always did a good job, was a sharp shooter and gave everything he had to every mission, maybe too much. That was bad luck, according to him, bad luck he kept joking about in the hopes it’d scare it away. The Alpha Team had celebrated its five years anniversary and his misfortune was still there — which gave the boys a perfect excuse to go out and let loose after every mission. 

Usually, Enjolras would have agreed with a smile and pretended he’d only come with to keep an eye on his men while nursing a beer and listening to one of them, usually Courfeyrac, recounting their feats in a rather dramatic manner. He loved every single one of them and cherished these little moments of safe happiness, despite the headaches some of them caused him from time to time. Bossuet and his bad luck, Courfeyrac and that annoying habit of his to let his mouth run about any and everything on base, Grantaire and his pitless stash of alcohol. They were good men, ones he had grown to respect and cherish. He literally put his life in their hands more often than not once their uniforms were trashed in the laundry basket and their weapons back at the arsenal, they could easily turn into a loud bunch of little shits.

“Not tonight” he replied, resisting the urge to check his phone to see whether or not the pretty doctor had called. 

She hadn’t, not yet and he _knew_ that but on the off chance that he might have missed the clear sound of a text coming in-

“You got plans? She called?” Marius inquired, a bright smile on his face.

His comrade’s naturally cheerful demeanor was often a source of comfort for Enjolras. Pontmercy was an optimist at heart, always had something nice to say and liked to see the best in people, which made him a perfect right-hand man to balance out the captain’s colder presence, both in the latter’s opinion and their hierarchy’s. It came in handy sometimes, Enjolras wouldn’t deny it, but right now? Right now, it was annoying.

“No. Not yet” Enjolras added a second too late and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“So you’re not sure she’s gonna call” his friend chortled, much to Enjolras’ dismay. “Which is sad, of course” he continued, too serious this time, blatantly trying to correct his mistake. “But I gotta admit it’s a bit fun to see you not getting your way.”

“Glad I can keep you entertained Pontmercy.”

He wasn’t bitter, not really. No promise had been made so none had been broken and there was a good chance he’d never cross paths again with Éponine Thénardier, even if her brother decided to take his advice to heart. But did he expect her to call? Well, yes. Or at least he had hoped she would. Despite the weird circumstances and her evident lack of trust regarding anything he had to say to defend himself, there had been _something_ there. He couldn’t have been the only one feeling it, right? Her smiles didn’t come straight from his imagination and neither did that lovely blush that had colored her cheeks in the elevator. 

“Enjolras?”

He looked up to find Marius watching him expectantly and realised he had completely zoned off, messy dark curls dancing on a wrinkled white coat hogging his mind for a minute.

He wondered if she had time to get some rest and brush that hair since yesterday.

_That’s none of your business._

He smiled to himself, shaking his head.

Marius cleared his throat, subtly trying to bring his friend back to reality. For good this time. “That report isn’t gonna write itself you know. Have you been daydreaming about that doctor all afternoon?”

_Daydreaming._ Seriously.

“Coming from you, that’s rich Sergeant. Did you already forget those awful weeks when you spent your days smiling like a lunatic and talking our ears off about First Lieutenant Fauchelevent, mh? That wasn’t so long ago but maybe running laps with your gear might refresh your memory, what do you think?”

Much to Enjolras’ delight, his friend’s ears turned a lovely shade of red. Good, that’d serve him right. 

“That’s abuse of power Captain” Marius weakly responded.

“Aren’t you used to it by now? With Cosette pulling all the stops to be around you?” Enjolras dropped the official titles, raising his eyebrows at his friend over the screen of his computer. “What happened by the way? I thought one of us was about to get murdered on the ride back yesterday and I’m pretty sure I got on her good side forever when I told her father I’d never marry his daughter. So it must be you, what did you do this time?”

To him, Pontmercy and Cosette were a match made in heaven, truly, and never had he once regretted introducing them — past the first few weeks of their relationship when Marius had turned into a pile of cheesy, romantic goo, drooling with love wherever he went. Everything had been fine then but their relationship had turned sour as it had gotten more serious. Being on the Alpha Team was physically and emotionally challenging for sure but it was also tough for the families and, obviously, for their partner. Cosette wasn’t a civilian though and she was fully aware of the risks and the secrecy that came with Marius’ position. After all, her own father was one of their commanding officers and Enjolras knew the man well enough to be sure he’d tell his daughter anything she’d want to know. General Valjean loved his daughter more than anything and wanted the best for her. Ironically, Marius didn’t fit the bill, despite being the only man to ever catch Cosette’s eyes. He was a fine soldier, a smart one with a perfect track record, but he was a non-com officer. His only fault in the general’s eyes but one the old man couldn’t see past.

Faced with silence, Enjolras decided to take a guess. “It’s her father again?”

Marius shook his head, stiff as a board. Liar. Despite being the cause of numerous fights between Cosette and him, he’d never been caught bad-mouthing Valjean. Not even drunk.

“Look, mate, this is ridiculous. You love her, she loves you, who cares if you enlisted rather than spending years in a military academy. It didn’t do me any good, see!” Enjolras comically gestured at the screen, hoping to get a smile on that tense face.

“She wanna get married” the other man blurted out. 

How long had he been sitting on that one? Cosette and he had only reunited yesterday after the Sudan mission and Pontmercy had looked his usual focused self during the week there. But then again, work was work and Marius was a true professional. He always left his personal issues at home whenever they had a new assignment. Still, marriage? That was huge. It was a miracle he didn’t spill the beans earlier.

“So? When’s the wedding?” Enjolras asked with a smile, his fingers now running swiftly along the keyboard.

Nothing like listening Pontmercy’s relationship troubles to spark inspiration.

“I don’t think her father would allow it” Marius mumbled, pitiful.

The captain snickered. “Mate, I’m not sure you heard but this is the 21th century, she definitely doesn’t need his permission. Can’t say I’m surprised she’s this mad at you if you told her that.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, just- he’d never give us his blessing and I don’t wanna come between them.”

Marius Pontmercy, ever so noble. Enjolras had always known it’d be his downfall one day and there it was, sadly.

“So you’d rather let him come between you two? Well, that’s just brill-”

His phone chirped in to announcing a new text, momentarily saving Marius who almost literally jumped at the occasion to change the topic.

“Is it the doctor?” he asked, bending down to try and catch a glimpse of the name displayed on the screen.

“Focus on your own doctor Pontmercy.”

It wasn’t Éponine Thénardier, of course not and even if Enjolras wanted nothing more than to see an unknown number at the top of his notifications right now, he probably shouldn’t have felt this disappointed to receive a message from his mother. She’d be slightly hurt if she knew.

“Maybe she didn’t like that you lectured her brother” Marius weighed in, pensively.

“I didn’t lecture him, I gave the kid a piece of advice.”

“Did you use Grantaire as an example again?”

So maybe it wasn’t the first time Enjolras had run into someone who had hit a wall. He had too, a long time ago, and he knew how terrifying it could be. There was always a way out, always. Maybe his wasn’t for everyone, sure, but it had proven efficient. Grantaire was a living proof of it, no matter what Pontmercy had to say about it.

He smiled, pausing briefly in his typing. “He’s a good one.” 

“Yes but enlisting isn’t for everyone.”

“Maybe” he agreed with a shrug before getting back to his report. One last line, just one and he’d be done. “I didn’t make the kid sign anything anyway, whether he acts on it or not is up to him now.”

The boy — Gavroche, right? — had laid still on the examination table quietly, not meeting his eyes once. Didn’t object, didn’t interrupt, only asked for his number once Enjolras was done talking. There was a good chance he wouldn’t use it but the soldier had done what he could. You couldn’t save everyone after all. It was always worth a try, yes, and no one was truly a lost cause in his opinion but someone who didn’t want help would eventually run away from it.

“Are you really gonna wait here all night and let me handle the boys on my own?” Marius asked after a few minutes.

Enjolras looked at his phone, sighing. She wasn’t going to call, was she?

“Come on mate, you should know better than to flirt in a hospital anyway.”

Yeah, Pontmercy was probably right and he could probably use a night out with the lads. They could be sent away on another mission anytime, their few moments of freedom were too rare and precious to waste.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Éponine Thénardier did, eventually, call, despite what Pontmercy had said.

The boys of the Apha Team had dragged their captain to their favourite bar with bright smiles and loud cheers, excited to be home and resting for once. Courfeyrac was in the middle of a story, one that involved Bossuet hurting his wrist during a training session, when the phone rang. Buzzed after a beer he had downed too fast, slightly drunk of happiness too, Enjolras didn’t realise someone was calling _him_. To be fair, he was used to all their phones ringing at the same time and the loud voice of his comrade covered most of the noises around their table.

“Isn’t that your phone Cap?” Grantaire asked over his own pint of beer, only the second of the night.

“Is it the doctor?” Marius leaned over the table to peak, nearly knocking over his own drink. “Oh, shit.”

“Swear jar Sergeant, pay up!” Courfeyrac guffawed in glee and extended an open hand to Pontmercy.

“Remind me again why you’re the one in charge of- Enjolras, your phone!” Marius nudged him in the ribs before throwing a euro in Courfeyrac’s general direction.

Oh, right. The phone. _His_ phone. 

He didn’t even bother to look properly at the screen before picking him up, aware that he owed his parents a call anyway. Hopefully, they’d hear the boys in the background and offer to call him back later.

“Yes?”

There was only silence on the other side of the line at first and for a quick moment, the soldier wondered if it wasn’t a mistake. Wrong number maybe? It happened.

But then.

“Is this Captain Enjolras’ phone?”

_Oh_. So Éponine Thénardier had decided to call then.

“Yes yes, just- wait a second” he rushed to his feet, hoping she wouldn’t hang up on him before he had a chance to properly talk to her. “Lads, I’ll be right back, behave alright?”

“Is it a bad time? I can call you back later if you’d like” the doctor offered as Enjolras was stepping out of the bar, the chill April wind whipping his face.

“No!”

Too strong? Maybe, yeah.

“I mean, no, no, it’s not a bad time, I was just out with my men.”

“But you’d rather talk to a stranger?” She sounded amused, it made him smile. 

“Only if the stranger’s a pretty one.”

Was that too much too? He wasn’t sure. Yes, alright, he was a bit of a flirt but Enjolras was as respectful as he was observant and he knew when his attention wasn’t wanted. Most of the time, that was. With the doctor, he wasn’t sure, not yet. Yesterday, she had seemed annoyed with him at first, mostly because they met with her injured brother two feet from them and, yes, alright, the timing and circumstances didn’t exactly play in his favour. But she _took care_ of him when no one asked her to — and she could have easily sent him to the ER without breaking her oath — and she chatted with him. Smiled at his stupid jokes too. Admittedly, it had been a while since Enjolras had last made a serious move on someone — old ladies he helped cross the street and his mother’s friends he charmed out of habit did not count — and maybe he could have been a little more subtle but he wasn’t delusional, was he? She’d tell him if he was, right? She seemed like the brutally honest type.

Yet, instead of a sharp tone to put an end to his hope, the doctor surprised him with quite a soft voice. “You didn’t come.”

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t come” she repeated, a little rougher, annoyed maybe — he could almost picture her rolling her eyes like she did yesterday. “To the hospital, for your treatment.”

Was she actually serious or was it all an excuse to give herself the courage to call? Enjolras shook his head, a bright smile slowly stretching his lips. “Well, didn’t you say I could do it myself?” He reminded her, claiming one of the stools left there, probably for the smokers to use while on a cigarette break.

“Yeah.” At least she didn't deny it. “But you also said you wanted to see me.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d be comfortable” he admitted, deciding to go for honesty. “I didn’t want to impose or be in your way. Besides, you must have your fair share of people coming in for minor emergencies.”

Did he want to get a place in a probably long list of bandages, flu shots and other not-so urgent medical issues related memories? Definitely not. He had thought about driving to Le Musain a little after lunch but had decided against it, knowing how creepy it’d feel to pretty much anyone, starting with the doctor herself. Scaring her wasn’t part of the plan and the ball was in her court anyway. 

(And he was so glad she picked it up to throw it back.)

She laughed softly in his ears and he immediately wondered what else he could say, what joke he could crack to hear that sound again. 

_Get a grip, Enjolras_. She had yet to agree to his initial proposal, so it was definitely for the best to keep it cool.

“You have no idea” she sighed but it didn’t sound that sad nor desperate. “I never thought I’d write so many prescriptions for the flu when I decided to become a surgeon. But you can’t exactly chase people away from the ER and we get all kind of cases so...”

“Why?”

Was it the right time to ask such questions? Maybe not, indeed, but talking to her felt easy, natural even, and he was genuinely interested by the answer. Sure, Éponine Thénardier was pretty and he’d admit her face was the first thing he noticed in that lobby. Her face but mostly her big green eyes, filled with worry for the boy Pontmercy and he were dragging around. Then anger and skepticism, directed at him. She never tried to hide it and for someone who was used to diplomacy and decorum, it had been a truly refreshing experience. One that had also opened the door to his curiosity. Did she only have a brother or was there other siblings? What was her favourite colour? What did she like to do on her free time? Was she more of a red wine person or a white wine one? What did her Netflix homepage looked like? How did she take her coffee?

“Well, it’s not exactly what I imagined I’d be doing when I got into med school.”

He laughed, a bit too loud, and a few patrons gave him curious looks as they were leaving the bar. “No, I mean, why did you decide to become a doctor?” 

Usually, the romantic weirdo talking on the phone outside the pub was Pontmercy. He could disappear in a second to call Cosette and they’d usually find him when they left, still happily babbling in his cellphone, inspired by the alcohol and the million stars in the sky that reminded him of Cosette’s eyes — his words, not Enjolras’. He had made fun of his friend many, many times — and still would as Pontmercy had a unique way to turn any and everything into the cheesiest confession of love — but he was starting to understand _why_ someone would choose to freeze their ass off for a _phone call_.

God, how he wished she’d have called earlier. They could have been talking over a nice bottle of Bordeaux and Enjolras would have asked her a million questions by now.

Alright, maybe not a million. That was the beer talking. Probably more something between fifty and seventy.

“Are we really having that kind of conversations over the phone?” 

She clearly sounded unimpressed, dismissing his question altogether but it didn’t stop Enjolras. “Do you wanna grab coffee?”

Sure, it was a bit late and he wasn’t exactly in Paris and he already had had a drink. Those weren’t the most optimal circumstances for a first date but then again, he did meet her for the first time while hoisting her bruised and battered brother around. It’d be an improvement no matter what.

“What, now?” That same dismissive, standoffish tone again. She wasn’t buying it.

“Yeah. Where are you? I’ll come.”

Éponine didn’t reply at first. Didn’t hang up either, he could hear her breathing at the end of the line. So this was it, the actual moment when she decided whether or not she would trust him. That was definitely why it took her so long to call, why she didn’t text during that slow day. He could picture her, looking at his number, a few black curls astray from a messy ponytail dangling around her face, pondering how trustworthy that weirdo she met yesterday truly was. 

_Daydreaming._ Yeah, Pontmercy had probably been right. Not that he would ever tell him but still, the image felt somewhat familiar after crossing his mind so many times over the afternoon. He had almost forgotten about it thanks to his team but there he was, imagining the curve of her smile, her almond-shaped eyes wide open, boring into his, looking for honesty.

Ironically, the doctor interrupted his train of thoughts. “I’m still at the hospital but it’s late and you were busy anyway, you should get back to your party.”

_Like hell he was._

Enjolras took a quick look at his watch, wheels already turning for some quick maths. All things considered, Compiègne-Paris was not that long of a drive, especially at nighttime, and there was no way he would walk back into the bar when he could spend time with her. Prouvaire was the designated driver for the night, he’d have to make a little detour then.

“I can meet you there in, let’s say, an hour?” 

Probably a bit more if he was truly honest but Enjolras didn’t want to risk anything. Jehan was a fine driver, sure, but he was no match to Cosette who got them home in little over fifty minutes the day before _during_ rush hour. 

“Actually, mh…”

Oh no. Did she change her mind already? 

“Unless you don’t want me to. I’d get it if you needed some sleep or-”

“No!”

Her voice was loud, her tone hasty, leaving no room to any doubt.

Enjolras didn’t even try to repress the smug smile that was tugging at his lips. So she was interested in him then, he didn’t imagine things. Good, good.

“I mean, tomorrow’s my day off” she said, softer, more collected. “It’s fine, really, and today’s been a slow one anyway, with patients at least.”

“It doesn’t sound like good news”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad a few less people needed to come in and all, but…”

“Did something happen?”

“It’s nothing, I just ran into the director and…”

The memory of a small, vaguely creepy man flashed through Enjolras’ mind as the doctor trailed off, ruffling noises replacing her voice over the phone then a whisper that vaguely sounded like _why am I telling this to an absolute stranger_ , which, in all honesty, was fair yet he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Alright Doc, we’ll talk in a bit, ok?”

Maybe it was the moment she’d finally say no, tell him he was a crazy motherfucker or something equally colourful and hang up on him. Maybe. 

“Yeah, ok” she huffed out after a second.

Maybe not then. Brilliant.

“Text me when you get there, I’ll meet you at the front. You got my number now, save it” and with that, she was gone. 

A bit stunned, a big, surprised smile on his face, the soldier stood there for a brief moment, wondering if he was really about to the pretty doctor on a coffee date in the middle of the night. Might have not been the best proposition to make but oh, well, he was used to living his life on the edge. His therapist would probably frown upon so much enthusiasm but there were so more urgent issues at hand, starting with how the hell he would get to Paris in his slightly inebriated state. 

Enjolras rushed back into the bar, accidentally shoving a patron on his way back to his friends. Thankfully, the young man merely nodded at his apology and quickly went on with his night.

“Jehan, I need a ride, come on” the captain announced, slightly out of breath.

A chorus of protestation rose from the table, starting with Coufeyrac stating the obvious: “he’s our DD, you can’t seriously-”

A frowning Marius dismissed him with a simple hand gesture. “Everything alright?”

There was a good reason Pontmercy was his right-hand man, on and off the field, sober or not. Organised, sensible Marius Pontmercy. Sometimes, he’d almost make Enjolras feel guilty for messing with him.

“Yeah, don’t worry” Enjolras smiled sweetly. Way too sweetly and it clearly didn’t do anything to reassure Marius. Poor man. “R, call First Lieutenant Fauchelevent, will you? She’ll drive you back to the base. Make sure the sergeant’s all sober up by then, yeah? We still need him around and he has yet to get back into her good grace so make sure he doesn’t indulge in any drunken declaration of his undying love.” 

The last thing he saw before almost hauling up a very confused Prouvaire out of the bar was Pontmercy’s face hilariously turning white.

  
  


* * *

“ _I know you’re not driving Alexandre but go off, ignore me. I just wanted to remind you that I am not your personal chauffeur. Next time you have someone call me to drive your boys around, I’ll make sure you’ll get stuck behind a desk for the rest of your career, mark my words._ ” 

It wasn’t the most menacing voicemail Cosette had ever left him, far from it, and after nearly three decades of friendship, Enjolras knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t stay mad at him for long. Not when he provided her with a perfectly legitimate excuse to spend time with her boyfriend. Fiancé? God only knew where those two were at in their relationship. Not that he was worried but as bright as they could be, both Marius and Cosette tended to get significantly dumber when it came to feelings. Life was short, they knew that better than anyone and yet-

But before he could dwell more into his friends’ romantic issues, fingers tapped lightly on his right shoulder as he was smiling into the night, Cosette’s voice ringing in his ears long after the voicemail ended.. Pocketing his phone, Enjolras turned around to discover Éponine Thénarduer wrapped in a denim jacket that had clearly seen better day and a bright pink scarf that covered half of her face. It reminded him of the ones his grandmother used to knit for him every year, huge and warm, in different shades of red. 

“Hi” she breathed out, eyes wrinkling in a smile he couldn’t see. Cute.

“Hi.”

“You didn’t wait here for too long, did you?”

Enjolras shook his head without a word, shamelessly staring. She was pretty, of course she was, it was literally the first thing that had come to his mind when he had first laid eyes on her — despite the circumstances but after all, he’d been trained to notice _details_ — but was different, seeing her like this, without a stern scowl on her face. A good kind of different.

A noticeable blush started growing on her cheeks and she averted her gaze. 

“I’m sorry, I did one last round after we talked and barely had time to change-”

“It’s fine Doc, you’re fine” he interrupted her, his right hand rising to pat her shoulder, a reflex he owed to years of camaraderie in the military.

Éponine Thénardier wasn’t one of his brothers and he knew better than to touch a stranger without their consent.

She gave him a curious look as he finally buried both of his hands in the pocket of his jeans, an eyebrow shooting up on her forehead. “I can’t believe you’re here” she says after a moment, meeting his eyes. “It just doesn’t, I don’t know, look real to me.”

“I know, I’ve been told I’m very dreamy.”

For a second or two, it felt like the joke fell flat as the doctor stood there, quiet behind her pink scarf. Had Enjolras misread their previous interactions? He could act like a cocky idiot sometimes, usually on purpose to get a reaction out of his audience — it worked wonders on his mother and Cosette — and she had seemed to enjoy it yesterday. Or did he see that because he wanted to?

But then — she burst out laughing, bending over as if that was the most hilarious thing she ever heard.

“Who said that? Your mum?”

Was she- yeah, she was very clearly _mocking_ him. 

“Well, you’re not wrong” he shrugged, a smile still playing on his lips.

It felt easy, comfortable. Vaguely familiar too but he wasn’t sure why, not yet that is. He’d probably take time to think about it — but later. Time, Enjolras had come to learn, was precious and spending some of his days risking his life had taught him to enjoy the peace and quiet around family and friends. And intriguing strangers, not that he met many.

“But seriously” Éponine brought him back to reality, suddenly all up in his space. Did he mind? No, not one bit. He could see flickers of gold in her big eyes and a tiny mole right above her left eyebrow, the dark bags under her eyes he didn’t notice yesterday, a curl dancing on her temple. 

“You realise this is a bit unusual, right? Meeting me here in the middle of the night for a cuppa?”

He was aware, yes. Just as he knew that it was _unusual_ for two strangers to stand this close to each other.

“Why did you call then?” 

He _had_ to ask. He just had to. Of course he was happy she did call but it was still surprising nonetheless.

The doctor stayed quiet for a moment, not quite looking at him, so still Enjolras started to wonder if she’d heard him.

“You thought I wouldn’t, didn’t you?” she finally said as he opened his mouth to ask again and he nodded wordlessly.

“So all that confidence is a lie then?” The tone was light but there was something shining in her eyes, now fixed on his. _Interest_.

“No, not exactly” he shrugged with a soft smile, “but I wasn’t sure you were interested, that’s all.”

“Thank you.”

Thank you? What was she thanking him for?

“Pardon?” his eyebrows shot up high, wrinkling his pale forehead, reaching for the few strands of black hair resting on his skin. 

“I don’t know, giving me an out? Not assuming I owed you anything after I flirted with you?”

“That’s the most basic decency, people deserve it at the very least.”

“Still. Thanks.”

Now, Enjolras was well aware of how fucked up the world — and _men_ — was and the army wasn’t any better. It was often an hostile environment for women and even though things were changing for the best, be it for PR reasons or for more righteous ones, misconducts and gross, offensive comments were still a common thing. He wasn’t surprised anymore, only more attentive to details regarding female soldiers he crossed paths with and, occasionally, civilians. God only knew what kind of disgusting behaviours Éponine Thénardier had to face. A woman of colours in the medical field, working in one of the fanciest neighbourhoods of the capital? He could only imagine what she must have had to deal with. What, at the end of the day, made his own behaviour shocking enough to deserve a thank you.

The doctor cocked her head to the side behind her scarf, hands diving into the pockets of her jacket. “So, do you know a place around here?”

“For?”

“Coffee, Pretty Boy” she reminded him, as if it was obvious — and, come to think of it, it probably was. “You’re the one who suggested that” she added in what sounded like a longer, more elaborate version of _duh_.

“Right, yeah.” He didn’t think this far, not really. He didn’t think at all, actually. “I assumed you’d have a favourite spot around.”

Her deep, throaty laugh suddenly filled the quiet and empty street, her eyes wrinkling with joy. She looked much younger for a few seconds, carefree even. It suited her. 

“I don’t have time for fancy coffee when I work, just the crappy ones from the vending machines. Besides, it’s a little too late for that.”

“So… what do we do?” Enjolras asked softly, fighting the urge to push back a strand of hair dangling on her forehead. 

“You tell me, you were full of ideas yesterday.”

Ah, touché. He had failed to take his own impulsivity into account though. Ideally, he would have had time to organise the perfect date — and have a backup plan or two. Improvised romantic getaways were a thing of fiction, in his book at least, but he still had a few tricks up his sleeve.

He pulled out his phone, drawing out the map application. “Did you have dinner already?”

“Do you know what time it is? I doubt we can find a restaurant open right now.”

Sure, they had very few options when in Paris, in the middle of the night but it would have to do.

“Give me some credit Doc.”

  
  


* * *

If they were in some kind of Hallmark movie-verse, Enjolras would have been friends with the owner of a very romantic restaurant who would have owned him a big favour. Or maybe just opening his place for the sake of love. The menu would have been exactly to Éponine’s liking and there would have been flowers, lots of flowers, in a well lit room, empty of any patron except for them. But they weren’t in a movie, Enjolras didn’t know that many people in Paris, no one in the gastronomy world at least, and that McDonald was the only place closing at 2am he could think of in such a short span of time. At least it had been mostly empty, saved for a couple of American tourists chatting a few tables away from them. And he was pretty sure the place had a plant too. That was close enough, right?

“Ok, I have to say it, this isn’t exactly my idea of a nice first date” Éponine said with a strange smile, watching her fries pensivel. “But also this is exactly what I needed.”

“Junk food in the middle of the night?” he smirked over his own food. “That’ll do the trick, really?”

“Don’t judge, you learn to lower your standards when you don’t have time to wait around for Prince Charming to come pay you a visit on his pretty white horse.”

She rolled her eyes as she was digging in, seemingly unaware that the soldier was still staring at her. It was probably a bit rude, Enjolras knew that, but there was something about this moment — or maybe about _her_ — that he wanted to remember. That and the dozens of questions that were running through his mind. He liked to see himself as a pretty good judge of character but he had yet to grasp who the doctor was. And yes, he was more than ready to spend as much time than necessary to find out.

If only time wasn’t such a luxury for him.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

A soft smile lightened his face as he shook his head.

“I can ride a horse” he said in lieu of an actual answer.

And yes, yes, the look of absolute bewilderment on Éponine’s face was definitely worth such a confession.

“What? I- who says that? What?” she giggled, wiping ketchup off her mouth.

The wrinkling eyes made another appearance. Oh yes, definitely worth it. 

“People who can ride horses. Like me. I mean, I’m pretty sure we don’t own any white one but-”

“Hold on. You’re really not joking, right? What, are you part of some weird, horse-riding military team I never heard of? Not that I’m judging but that sounds a little funny” she added, full on laughing at that point.

“No. But my family owns stables.”

“Sounds very posh. Wait, so are you actually Prince Charming? Timeliness clearly isn’t your thing Captain, I stopped waiting for you a decade ago” she dramatically sighed, right before one of the biggest bites he ever saw a human get from a burger — and he’d shared countless meals with both Marius and Cosette.

“And why is that?”

Questions, he had so many questions. Probably too many. And sure, yes, Enjolras was curious by nature but he had rarely met anyone he wanted to know any and everything about this quick. 

“Why what?”

“Why did you stop waiting?”

Their eyes met and for a second, it felt like time had stopped in the cheesiest, most cliché of ways. One Alexandre Enjolras had felt very few times in his life. Was that too much of a question for a first date? He should have stuck with the basics, then perhaps his heart wouldn’t be beating so fast. _Jesus_ , it was only a date, one in a cheap fast food joint at that and he was a grown man. Why was he so nervous?

“Well” Éponine breathed out after what truly seemed like forever, “not only are men trash but also I was a little busy with, you know, med school.”

“I’m sorry.”

“About med school? I still have a student loan to repay if you’re feeling that bad. I mean, if you sold a horse or two, that could really help out” she joked over her fries, without looking directly at him. Avoiding his gaze, clearly.

It was the second time, he noted, that she was bringing up his social class in the span of two minutes or so. Sure, he had fed the information on his own and there didn’t seem to be any malice in her remarks, nor an interest of any kind. Did it bother her? Maybe. Le Musain was definitely one of the top hospitals in the city, if not the country, but Enjolras knew better than to make assumptions based on a single piece of intel. Besides, although the medical field seemed quite elitist, it was only a job. Éponine working in one of the fanciest parisian facilities didn’t mean anything. Or did it?

But it wasn’t the point.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry you met, well, trash.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow in disbelief, a handful of fries up in the air on the way to her mouth.

Enjolras frowned. “Yes? I can’t imagine how tough it must have been, of course, and I won’t pretend to. I’m just sorry it’s something you had to deal with, I guess?”

She eyed him suspiciously, clearly wondering if such declaration was genuine or not.

“Still do honestly” she finally sighed, wiping her hands on a paper towel. “I’ve spent most of my adult life studying medicine, right? And yet it doesn’t matter, people still think I’m a nurse when I walk into an examination room, male colleagues get more respect than I do and Babet- the hospital director, remember him? You met him yesterday, he was all over your lil action scene when we checked the CCTV? He’s just, he’s somehow convinced he’s the absolute epitome of charm, that every woman who sees him just want him to chase her or some creepy shit. Keeps calling me sweetheart every now and then when I’m a goddamn doctor and he doesn’t like it very much when you resist him.”

“I’m sorry you have to work with that poor excuse of a man. I’m assuming you got no choice?”

“Something like that, yeah. And the pay’s great, let’s be honest. Helps with the student loan and my siblings.”

Did that mean her parents weren’t in the picture anymore? Enjolras stored that question away, clearly not first date material.

“How old are they?”

“Zel’s 22, she’s studying journalism up North and it’s not exactly cheap” she tried to shrug it off but it was quite obvious now money was a sensitive issue. “She has a part-time job and I hate it but it helps her cover whatever I can’t and Gav, well, he’s 18. Doesn’t do much with his life, except risking it like an idiot. I mean, you’ve met him.”

Ah, yes, the reckless teen brother, the whole reason their paths had crossed. A good kid, albeit a little lost for sure. But how had he ended up in her care? 

“And your parents?” Enjolras couldn’t help but ask.

One day, his curiosity would probably be his doom, both in his love life and the professional one. 

Éponine cocked an eyebrow, showing a handful of fries in her mouth before stating: “they don’t own stables for sure.”

Having her nearly spit food in his face while talking with her mouth full probably shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was to him but Enjolras couldn’t stop a tender smile from spreading.

“And what about yours?” she asked, going for his fries this time. 

He thought about slapping her hand away for a second but a voice that sounded awfully like Grantaire’s reminded him that _sharing is caring Cap._

An employee approached their table as Enjolras was about to answer, stopping him dead in his track. “I’m sorry to bother you but we’re about to close, it’s almost 2am.” 

“No worries, we’ll be out of your hair in a sec” Éponine replied, already up on her feet. “Captain, you take the food and I’m on tray duty.”

“You don’t have to ma’am” the poor fellow tried to stop her but Éponine shook her head, already off with both trays.

“Nonsense, we’re not gonna make you clean after ourselves. Here, done!” she grinned, dusting her hands off with a smile.

There wasn’t a soul around when they stepped out into the night, a stark contrast with the usually so busy Parisian streets buzzing with activity. Enjolras liked this, the peacefulness of the sleeping city, there was something soothing about it.

“Do you wanna finish this off at my place?” Éponine asked, already tapping on her phone by his side. “I found an Uber and I doubt you can jump on a train at this hour, so…”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re holding the food so it’s not exactly a selfless offer” she took a step towards him, suddenly all up in his personal space, so close he could smell her perfume — what was it, lavender? “Besides, there’s no one to interrupt us there.”

* * *

How long had it been since Enjolras woke up with a stiff neck and a vague aftertaste of lime in his mouth? Four, maybe five minutes? He knew he needed to leave at some point, sooner rather than later at that, but he was well aware that he might not be given the chance to quietly watch Éponine Thénardier snore softly on his shirt again any time soon.

They had fallen asleep shortly after turning the telly on, chatting mindlessly about any and everything like old friends. He wasn’t sure when, exactly, she had drifted off her part of the couch to end up snuggled on his side but it was nice, really nice. Slightly uncomfortable but the last thing he wanted to do was move.

“I know you’re awake” she mumbled, her voice hoarse with sleep, eyes still closed.

“How?” he smiled, resisting the urge to trace the outline of her nose with his fingers. 

Éponine Thénardier was beautiful. He had thought so when they first met in Le Musain lobby but seeing her up close and personal like this, it was even more striking.

“Posture changed. Breathing too” she yawned before cracking an eye open. “And you’re staring.”

And he didn’t feel one bit of guilt.

“Impressive.”

“I’m a light-sleeper. Also you’ve been rubbing circles on back for two minutes straight, so” she giggled, crawling in closer til her head rested on the crook of his neck.

“O-oh, sorry.”

He tried to move his arm away but she grabbed his wrist, keeping it in place against a patch of skin exposed where her tee had rolled up during the night.

“Don’t” he could _feel_ the word breathed out on his throat. “It’s a nice way to wake up from a nap, hasn’t happened in a while.”

Oh, that was dangerous. Very, very dangerous. For his sanity, for that meeting he had with his superior officer in a few hours. Enjolras had to get back to his base in Compiègne soon, really soon and it was getting harder to focus on that with the lovely doctor draped over him.

“A n-nap?” he stuttered, looking for a safe topic to land and stay on.

“How long have we slept? An hour? Two max? What time is it?”

The soldier took a brief look around the room, finding a digital alarm clock on the coffee table — how often did she sleep here?

“Nearly 5.” 

Éponine sighed, nuzzling his neck and Enjolras had to close his eyes to not lean down and kiss her right then and there. It’d be so, so easy and he was 90% sure after last night and, well, the last minute or so that it was on her mind as well. 

“Do you wanna move to my bed? No funny business I promise.”

Definitely on her mind too then. That was bad, really bad.

Damn, their timing sucked.

“I-” he tried to come up with an excuse, his mind absolutely blank, but once again the doctor interrupted him.

She sat up, his numb arm falling from her waist to the sofa. “Was that too much? I’m sorry, I haven’t done this in a while.”

And what was _this_ , exactly?

“Nap with strangers?” He cocked his head to the side, smiling.

“Sleep with someone on the first date” she deadpanned.

Bloody bad timing.

“Didn’t you just promise there’d be no funny business Doc?”

“Unless you want some.”

More than she probably thought he did, yeah.

“You have absolutely no filter in the morning” he grinned, caressing her cheek, unable to stop himself this time. “I like this”

“I don’t have any, period, unless I’m on duty.”

Not exactly shocking news. She had, indeed, been speaking her mind in a very genuine way since their first encounter. Honesty was refreshing and, sadly, a luxury Enjolras couldn’t afford 24/7 in his line of work.

“Speaking of, I’m afraid I can’t take you up on your offer, I have to report to my superiors this morning” he sighed, his smile falling quickly from his face.

Éponine promptly fell down to his side with a defeated pout. “Can’t you send an email?”

“That’s not how it works.”

He really wished it was though.

“Well, that sucks. The Army’s due for an upgrade, it’s 2019 you know, FaceTime is everyone’s favourite way to have meetings these days.”

He laughed, trying to picture himself explaining to the commanding officers that they needed to ditch their old, secured means of communication for video calls. That would surely go _smoothly_.

“Come on then, I’ll make you coffee before you go” Éponine offered and she got up, offering an hand. “You got time for coffee right?”

“Yes”

“Brilliant. On your feet soldier!”

She kept his hand in hers for longer than it was probably necessary, making coffee with her free one like it was the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t, of course, but it didn’t feel that weird either. Enjolras wasn’t really sure when was the last time he had felt this comfortable with anyone, especially someone he knew so little about but it was nice, so very nice and when she eventually let go to pour him some coffee, he was slightly disappointed.

“Do you wanna grab dinner sometime this week? Or maybe a movie?” she asked, filling another cup for herself this time.

Enjolras smiled over his, the smell waking him up completely. “Look who’s full of ideas now.”

“I know, I’m at my best at arse o’clock in the morning with a cup of coffee in my hand.”

Admittedly, she looked tired. Exhausted even. Yet her smile was bright and her eyes were shining with what seemed to be excitement. That couldn’t technically be blames on the caffeine as she had yet to take a sip of that enormous cup she was holding with both hands.

“Will you be able to go back to sleep after that?” Enjolras frowned with a quick nod to said cup. 

More like a pint, actually.

“After such a long shift? Nothing could keep me from my bed. I’m probably gonna sleep all day. And night.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow then.”

Was he disappointed? No. Not really. Working in the ER was probably exhausting and he knew how important sleep was, especially in a job that more often than not required to save people. Had he hoped they could talk soon? Well, yes but as the song went, you don’t always get what you want.

“Or you could text you know, like a normal person. I don’t necessarily have time to pick up the phone but I can reply between rounds and stuff” she teased, very clearly mocking him. What was _wrong_ with phone calls? “Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me you made it back home safely. Or wherever it is you army people live.”

Enjolras nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

* * *

And he did text. To tell her he got to the train station in time for his train back to Compiègne. To inform her he arrived at the base safely. To wish her a good day and night of sleep.

Then he found himself in a room with Pontmercy and a handful of his superiors with stern, albeit mildly concerned looks on their faces. The next mission was always around the corner and sometimes the corner was much closer than Enjolras wanted it to be but such was his life. His second date with the lovely doctor would have to wait. 

Bloody timing, once again.

He managed to contact her two days after leaving her flat, right as he stepped off the plane that took him and his team home. Some of them bruised, all of them alive. The assignment had seemed easy on paper, a simple two days trip to rescue hostages in a hostile environment. Hostages had been found, shocked and severely dehydrated but in one piece, and even though Bossuet had accidentally fallen down a set of stairs, they had all boarded the plane alive and well. A success on all accounts, so why was Enjolras feeling so bitter?

“Doctor Thénardier isn’t picking up” Marius noted with a small smile as they got to Enjolras’ office, sometime between phone call 5 and 6.

It wasn’t a question, there was no curiosity in his tone. The man was merely stating facts and his captain absolutely despised the knowing look he had on his face.

“You do realise she has a job, right? One that probably doesn’t allow her to stay by the phone to wait for your return. I’m sure she’ll-”

“She has no reason to wait” Enjolras suddenly realised as he was calling her again. Phone call 6.

“You didn’t- oh mate, you didn’t tell her you were leaving?”

Well, now that Pontmercy was asking with such candor, it seemed like a mistake. 

“It’s not like I could have given her any detail, is it? Our job-”

“ _Yes?_ ”

So truth be told, after the first three tries, Enjolras had stopped expecting _her_ to pick up. By phone call number 4, he couldn’t bring himself to leave a voicemail after the tone who had sounded like it had been taunting him — it hadn’t but he had slept a grand total of six hours in the past couple of days and he was clearly frustrated — and Pontmercy had distracted him from his second opportunity to say something. 

But she finally picked up.

“Hello? Are you there Enjolras? I swear to God, if you buttdialled me after ignoring me for two days, I-”

“I’m here, I’m here” he breathed out nervously, gesturing to Pontmercy leave the room.

The idiot had a big, bright smile on his face, which was all the more reason to kick him out. And Enjolras wasn’t totally opposed to resorting to his rank for it.

“I’m sorry, I just thought you might be too busy to answer your phone and-”

“So you decided to flood it with calls? Very logical of you Captain” she snorted humourlessly. 

Alright, so she sounded a bit annoyed. Whether it was because he was being persistent or because he’d gone completely quiet for two days after promising otherwise, Enjolras wasn’t sure yet but hey, at least she wasn’t completely indifferent. It was a start, he could work with that.

“Things got a bit, mh? Hectic over here” he bit his lips, already feeling the guilt that usually came with each of his lies. Not that he had a choice anyway. “I guess we could say I lost track of time? I didn’t mean to, I just-”

“Look, I got quite the busy job myself, I get it” she stopped him, her tone softer now. “Sometimes I don’t have time to text my siblings for days at a time and Gav ends up coming by Le Musain to make sure I’m still alive. On purpose, most of the time” she added on a softer tone hat warmed Enjolras’ heart.

So she wasn’t mad at him then, right?

“So… we’re good?”

“Not exactly, no, I…” she trailed off and Enjolras could have sworn his heart skipped a beat right there and then.

It was probably scientifically impossible and most definitely too dramatic, considering they barely knew each other but that was what disappointment felt like suddenly.

“I had a great time the other night, you know? And I, I don’t know, it’s probably stupid but I thought we shared something? It sounds so cliché, God I can’t believe I just said that, I hate that cheesy shit. But then you didn’t call. Or text. And I was disappointed, I guess?”

_Oh._

“Look, I gotta be honest, I don’t have time for this, I’m not looking for any drama, had my fair share of it in the past and I’m too busy to be waiting by the phone for a text or a call, that’s just not where my life is at right now.”

“I-I understand” Enjolras replied, missing a beat. 

He hadn’t given the situation much thought, mainly because he hadn’t had the time to. His job required laser-like focus and he tended to leave his personal life at the base once his team left on an assignment. Had he expected her to be pissed at him for not telling her he’d go MIA for a bit? Maybe, yeah. After all, he had seen Pontmercy in that very situation more than once but then again, he and Cosette were in a serious, committed relationship. The same couldn’t be said about Éponine and him.

“Can I make it up to you?” he asked softly.

He heard her sigh on the other side of the phone and he closed his eyes, preparing himself for the rejection that was heading his way.

“I’m free next weekend. I suggest you start planning now so we don’t end up eating cold fries on my couch like last time.”

Very well then.

Wait. 

Was that a yes?

“Did you just say yes?” 

He had to ask. He _had_ to.

“Yes, Captain, I believe I just did” Éponine teased and yeah, sure, they didn’t know each other that well but he was almost certain he could _hear_ her smile through the phone.

“Brilliant. I’ll text you then. I’m sorry, I have some paperwork to take care of and-”

“Go do your job and I’ll get back to mine. My break’s almost over anyway. Don’t take too long to text, yeah?”

“Yes ma’am.”

* * *

Enjolras couldn’t remember the last time he had gone to the movies on his own, let alone with someone else. He didn’t really care for it but the Doc had seemed excited when he mentioned it over texting. And after all, he wanted to get back on her good side so a movie it was. He'd read about it on his way to the mall where the cinema was located and, sure, Enjolras was a few movies behind in the Marvel Cinematic Universe but he would probably be able to understand most of this one.

But definitely not today. His work phone was buzzing in his pocket, which could only mean one thing.

Another assignment.

“That’s us, come on” Éponine urged him as Enjolras was eyeing the screen of his phone.

“I can’t, I have to go.”

He didn’t need to look up to know the smile she had on her face since she met him had suddenly disappeared.

“Seriously?” The tone was icy, her grip on his forearm grew stronger. “April’s Fools was last week you know.”

He straightened up to meet her eyes with a sigh. “I’m serious.”

The doctor stared at him for a moment, concern replacing anger in her gaze.

“Is everything alright?” 

“Duty calls and I gotta pick up” he said with a weak smile, shaking his ringing phone in front of her face.

He’d have to call back quick, really quick but he couldn’t leave Éponine right there and then without an explanation, as vague as it would have to be.

“Oh God, did something happen?”

How many times had he heard that question? From his mother, from the very few friends he had outside the military. They all wondered, whenever he took off in their presence. Before November 2015, there had been worries for his safety and the same anxious questions regarding his job. He couldn’t talk about it, couldn’t give any detail, for their safety and his, but since the terror attacks, he had seen something new in his family’s and friends’ gaze. Something he was seeing right now in Éponine’s green eyes. It had been four years now but the traumatic experience was still fresh in everyone’s mind.

Enjolras shook his head and patted her shoulder, trying his best to look reassuring.

“Something happened somewhere but not here. You’re safe” he promised with a small smile and she reluctantly let go of his arm. “Go on, enjoy the movie, I’ll text you, alright?”

Oh, the déjà-vu feeling that came with those words. Would he ever leave her in a different way?

“Yes, ok, ok- wait, Captain!” She grabbed him again, pulling him to her, her flowery perfume wrapping him up in a what felt like a safety cloud.

Oh, how he wished he could stay and hold her hand in the dark. But not today.

“Yeah?”

“Be careful” she whispered before her lips brushed his in the softest of kisses, barely there. “I mean, am I allowed to say that? Your superiors can’t really hurt you for being a bit late, right?”

Stunned by the sudden kiss even if it was merely a peck, Enjolras was having a hard time processing her words. What was she on about? “What?” 

Éponine frowned. “Isn’t this some kind of emergency meeting? What, are you actually going to war?”

For a second, Enjolras wondered what kind of ideas went through her mind when she was thinking about his job. He rarely talked about it with his parents, his non-military friends knew better than to ask questions at this point and he hadn’t had to explain it to anyone else in a long time. God only knew what conclusions the lovely doctor jumped at with what few details he had given her. Sadly, that conversation would have to wait.

“Yeah, some kind of meeting” it was better to leave it at that — and it wasn’t that far off from the truth anyway. “Take care Doc, I’ll text you.”

* * *

And text he did, two hours later, ten minutes before boarding a plane with his team for a week-long mission overseas. He didn’t disclose much — couldn’t, really — nor did he lie — couldn’t either — and when he finally managed to read her replies, some six days later, she didn’t seem to mind that they had had to take a raincheck on their second date. Or that he hadn’t had the time to reach out to her in almost a week. 

She didn’t mind the next time either, nor the one after that. They kept making plans that couldn’t seem to happen, mostly because his team could be deployed abroad at any given moment. She cancelled once too, her sister being in town for a surprise visit and as disappointed as Enjolras was, he also felt a bit relieved he wasn’t the only one to postpone. Not that he was keeping tabs, not consciously at least — but he _knew_. He knew she wouldn’t wait around nor fall for the work excuses forever. He knew. 

And yet, every time he came back to base and got his personal cell phone back, he was greeted with understanding, reassuring text messages. Éponine Thénardier was probably the most accommodating woman he had ever almost, sort of dated in his life.

Until he forgot to notify her he couldn’t make it to their dinner, after making the reservation himself, and flew off to South America for two whole weeks. She had left him a string of colourful texts, some voice memos as well, in the two days following the start of that mission. Then a three words message, two days before he came home.

_I am done._

Simple, effective. A sentence that needed no explanation nor response. She was done and Enjolras knew exactly why.

The next assignment was always right around the corner, yes, and Enjolras truly loved his job. But sometimes, just sometimes he hated it a little bit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, hope you liked it! Feel free to point out any mistake and/or to give feedback, I'm craving for constructive criticism as I haven't put out any fan work in literally forever and sometimes feel like I've forgotten how to write lmao
> 
> Anyway, you can find me on Twitter under the same username if you wanna chat about coffee, musicals or cats x


	3. too dumb to give up, too stubborn to change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello, I hope you’re well. Thank you for the kudos on the last chapter, it really helped me work on this one even tho I only got my cellphone to write for now. Again, most of this fic is planned and outlined and prewritten, if I may say? Like I got dialogues and notes for all of the 15 chapters, just gotta make it make sense with vaguely pretty words via Google Docs on my iPhone. It’s taking longer than expected, especially considering it’s the summer break and I literally got nothing else to do but my laptop is still at the shop, hopefully getting fixed. So… please bear with me? I promise we’ll get to the finish line at some point!
> 
> I still don’t own anything but my mistakes. Characters’ are Victor Hugo’s (except for that one (1) original female character), plot is heavily inspired by the korean drama ‘Descendants of the Sun’ and the title is from Rhys Lewis’ song ‘Things You Can’t Change’. This chapter’s title comes from Kacey Musgraves’ ‘It Is What It Is’. The fic moodbard’s [here](https://www.pinterest.fr/valtrashen/f-can-you-tell-that-i-want-you/) if you wanna check it out x

It had been another slow, very slow day. Slow enough that Babet had found time to leave his office to come and annoy her with some kind of humanitarian mission he was trying to get funds for. It wasn’t the first time, wouldn’t be the last either and Éponine didn’t trust the man. Why on Earth would he pick her for that kind of things when he barely acknowledged the fact that she was a _surgeon_. No, there was something shady behind it all and she wasn’t interested in finding out more about it.

After giving a quick debrief of the ER situation to Combeferre who was taking over for the night, the young doctor had jumped into an old — but fresh — pair of sweatpants, grabbed her belongings and almost ran from the locker room. Lately, Olivia had been trying to coax her into getting drinks after work if they happened to finish their shift at the same time and as much as Éponine liked the nurse, today she liked the idea of turning into a couch potato much more. She was exhausted and definitely not in the mood to be around people, no matter how friendly they were.

All plans of a nice, relaxing evening went down the drain when all of a sudden, a familiar figure stood in her way, wrapped in dark leather jacket.

_Jesus fucking Christ_. 

Startled, her heart clearly trying to fight its way out of her ribcage, Éponine tried to take a step back — emphasis on _tried_. If it weren’t for Captain Enjolras’ quick reflexes, she probably would have ended up on her ass.

And it would have been 100% his fault. 

“Let go” she snarled as soon as she got her footing back.

The last face she had expected to see today was probably his. Or it was a really close call. And if she wasn’t in the mood for a girls night out, she definitely wasn’t willing to hear whatever bullshit he had ready for her either. Sure, the soldier was cute and their little night together had been nice — more like it had left her craving for more because the handsome stranger just wouldn’t take a hint and drop the proper act but whatever, _details_ — but Éponine wasn’t an idiot. She was done with the lies and the weak excuses and she was pretty sure she had made herself clear with that one final text she had sent him last week.

And yet, he had the audacity to ask: “can we talk?”

Really? Dude ignored her for days, kept pushing back their stupid plans he had her excited about, stood her up at one of the fanciest restaurants in town without gracing her with even just a hint of an explanation, and _now_ he decided to show up at her workplace to _talk_? 

Éponine scoffed, trying to shove him aside. “Move.”

He didn’t budge one bit. Lovely.

“Éponine.”

“Move while I’m asking nicely” she insisted, refusing to meet his gaze.

She could feel his eyes on her though, she remembered the dark green of his iris glistening with joy as she was flirting with him back in her small kitchen. She didn’t need to look up to know the playfulness was gone, if his serious tone was anything to go by. And she didn’t want to, didn’t want to see his stupid face, didn’t want to acknowledge his presence after the humiliation.

It wasn’t the first time a man had messed with her, probably wouldn’t be the last either but this one had hurt more than she had anticipated. Their schedules hadn’t been in sync from the start, yes, but he clearly didn’t mind that her career came first as his did as well, which had been a refreshing change. He was charming too, attractive and, well, she had actually started to have expectations. To imagine things too, especially after that text about having dinner at the Frame Rooftop. She had gotten _excited_ , even splurged for a new dress and a haircut which was very unlike her.

And the dickhead never came. 

“Can we talk?” Enjolras asked again and this time, she looked up, glaring at him so fiercely he actually took a step back. Good.

“You’re in my way, fucking move already.”

“I just wanna talk” he repeated with an accent of desperation and _God_ , she was ready to punch that stupid jawline through the fucking atmosphere.

“And I don’t have time for this, ok?” she bit back, losing patience. “I had a shitty day, I just wanna go home. I told you I was done and I _meant_ it so drop it already!”

The soldier seemed surprised by the sudden outburst and she took advantage of it, walking around him to leave there. Really, dealing with him and whatever shit excuse he’d come up with was the last thing she needed.

“Épo-Éponine, wait, wait!”

He ran after her, planting himself on her path one more time, so close she nearly headbutted him.

The _nerves_ of that man.

All that lovely chat about decency and giving people their space, all that stuff that had Éponine thinking that maybe, just _maybe_ he was different from all the jerks she had met in the past, it was all bullshit then. How loud did she have to be for him to understand? 

“Just stop it man” she yelled, attracting some bystanders’ attention. “I told you I was done, I just made it very clear I don’t wanna have anything to do with you right now, what part of it don’t you understand?”

At least he had the decency to look ashamed, a blush blooming on his face — and _Christ_ , those goddamn cheekbones. It only set Éponine off though.

“I’m busy alright, and clearly so are you so let’s, let’s just stop pretending either of us wanna make this happen. I might be lonely but I’m not desperate, I’m sick and tired of getting stood up like an absolute fool.”

Deep down, she knew she was being a _tiny_ bit unfair. She had cancelled on him once and he had done so in a more or less timely fashion before the restaurant accident. But his excuses though? Looking back on them all, it was shady. He had kept on bringing up work and yeah, ok, Éponine wasn’t exactly an expert on all things military nor did she keep up with the news that often but she was willing to bet it was bullshit. No one had meetings lasting for days nor did anyone she knew forgot to check their phone for more than a couple of hours. Hell, Combeferre even had a first year checking his texts for him and reading them out loud during surgery.

“I’m sorry” Captain Enjolras hesitated, very clearly uncomfortable — good, he deserved it. “I know I shouldn’t have shown up unannounced, I just, I don’t know, I didn’t know what to do? I’m really sorry about that, I truly am, I just thought you deserved a proper apology. In person, I mean. I never meant to cancel any of our dates, I-”

Oh no, he was certainly not pulling the righteous act on her right now. Nope, no way.

“Every time, you dickhead” she punctuated every word with a punch to his shoulder. He barely moved, didn’t even wince but it made her feel better for a second. “And the last one? You didn’t even say anything. Do you know how long I waited in that fucking restaurant? Til they fucking closed. I sat there for hours in a stupid dress, hoping you’d somehow come til the very last minute. And you didn’t even have the guts to feed me another stupid lie about work. And work? Really? You couldn’t come up with a better excuse than that all those times? Like I’m not even worth a good lie?”

Éponine was aware she was making a scene a few steps away from Le Musain, aware any of her coworkers could walk in on her getting worked up over a mere stranger but she didn’t give a damn. She’d spent the last few weeks thinking about that idiot, letting his excuses slide and hoping it’d pass, she was tired and frustrated and it was time he heard about it. 

“I didn’t lie to you, I never did” he whispered, so soft it almost felt like a caress. 

_Liar_.

“Do you really think I’m gonna buy that?”

She wouldn’t. Éponine knew better than that. 

“I never lied to you” the soldier insisted, gentle but firm.

“Then do tell me where you keep disappearing to and why, because there’s some serious plot holes in that story, pal.”

They just looked at each other for a moment, neither of them backing away. Éponine didn’t know him very well, yes, but she was pretty sure he wasn’t used to people talking back to him and standing their grounds. 

“I can’t” he eventually said and there was something in his voice, a touch of sincerity that actually seemed genuine.

Something she actually _wanted_ to believe and Éponine hated it. She was past that kind of weaknesses, had been led on enough in her thirty something years of life. No more.

“Excuse me?”

He closed his eyes and frowned, his forehead wrinkling with worry. Or what, was he looking for some inspiration to paint another lie right in front of her eyes? He had the confidence for it, that was for sure.

“I cannot, under any circumstance, disclose anything to civilians regarding missions my men and I get assigned to, be it on french soil or abroad” he declared after a minute, much more solemnly than Éponine expected him to be. “Not only would my job be on the line but it could endanger people.”

It couldn’t be real, right? Of all the people she could have met, _seriously_? He was either a really good liar or some sort of spy and Éponine wasn’t happy with either possibility. 

“Do you seriously expect me to believe you’re in some kind of top secret, special forces team or something? _Really_?”

It sounded insane. It _was_ insane.

“Do you realise how crazy that sounds?” she pressed, looking for something, _anything_ , in those dark eyes that would just even remotely look like he was messing with her.

But he was just staring at her, so serious it was actually terrifying. 

“I am aware, yes” he finally said, each word falling carefully from his lips as if he’d thought about them hundreds of times before.

“So the work excuses… you weren’t lying” Éponine stated with a sad smile.

Part of her wished he had been lying. It would have been easier. Less scary too. God only knew what that man actually did for a living. Well, God and the army.

“I’m s-”

“If you apologise one more time, I swear, I will punch you.”

It was probably a bad idea in this particular situation. She had a mean right hook, it had come in handy in the past, especially during her high school years but Enjolras wasn’t some lanky racist idiot she could easily knock out. Pretty Boy was taller than her, certainly stronger too and if what he just told her was true, he knew probably a dozen ways to block her fists, if not more. She wasn’t as reckless as her teenage self anyway. Besides, that’d probably count as a violation of the Hippocratic Oath. Probably.

“I really am though” he had the nerves to say with a bright smile. Idiot.

“I-I believe you” Éponine whispered and she hated, _hated_ how genuine she sounded. How she was actually buying this insane shit he’d thrown at her. “But you can’t- I- just- I can’t do this right now, I don’t- you need to go.”

In any other situation, the look of utter surprise the soldier had on would have probably been hilarious but there was nothing funny about it all. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to cry or scream in her pillows but the doctor was quite certain of one thing: she needed him out of her sight, quick. How was she supposed to process it all otherwise?

“Alright, alright, sure, I- can I call you?”

She smirked, shaking her head. “Sounds familiar.”

His cheeks turned a little redder which probably shouldn’t have pleased her that much. People’s discomfort didn’t usually bring her any joy but it felt comforting to know she wasn’t the only one having a hard time with this whole situation.

But _what_ was it anyway?

They didn’t really know each other, went on a cheap date once, barely kissed. He could have kept the truth to himself and she would have been none the wiser, moving on after mopping around for a minute or two. Somehow being ghosted and stood up by a handsome stranger didn’t seem so terrible.

“I need to go.”

* * *

“So I think I should adopt a pet lizard.”

Éponine nearly dropped her coffee mug at that. Sure, she hadn’t exactly been paying attention to whatever her sister was saying. But then again, most of their conversations lately had revolved around Zel hunting for internships and she usually needed to vent without much interaction, which the doctor was more than able to provide.

“You totally zoned out Ép, are you alright?”

She didn’t need to look at her laptop’s screen to know the younger woman was worried. As independent as she was, Azelma didn’t exactly like living so far away and there was only so much support their weekly FaceTiming could provide.

“I’m fine, I’m just-”

“Tired and stressed, I know. You always are” Zel pointed out coldly. “But this is some whole new level of exhaustion dude, are you sure you’re alright?”

Truth be told, she wasn’t and she knew it. Ever since her encounter with the soldier outside Le Musain a few days ago, she had been struggling to sleep, obsessing over everything he had said and, more importantly, everything he hadn’t. Out of curiosity for one part, out of fear for the rest. Maybe it was a bit hypocritical. After all, she had known from the start he worked in the army and despite the initial disgust for the uniform, she had managed to look past it. He had seemed like a good man for the whole five minutes they spent together but so had many people she had grown up around. People with no morals, no limits, whichever side of the law they were standing on, scheming in practically broad daylight. And _he_ had the law backing him up on whatever secret business the government sent him on, which was even scarier. If it was being kept under wraps, if he couldn’t talk about any of it, it couldn’t be good. Éponine wasn’t naive enough to think he and his men were only sent on heroic, rescue missions like the ones that made the news every now and then. 

“I had a rough couple of months I guess” she shrugged, trying to give her sister a pixelated smile. 

“Is it about the money?” Zel asked, clearly not buying the fake reassuring grimace.

“No, God no. Babe, we’re good on that front, don’t worry about it, ok? I got you.”

“What is it then?”

“I’m alright, ok? Don’t worry about it.”

“Nice try sis. Someone gotta do it since you’re so bloody stubborn. You should take better care of yourself, I don’t know, take a week off, go somewhere sunny. Or go out, it could do you some good. Are you still dodging Olivia’s girls night invites?”

“I don’t have the time for that.”

“Well, find some. That girl loves you, she spent your last birthday party talking my ears off about how fucking great you are. And she _knew_ she was speaking to your sister.”

“I don’t know Zel.”

“It won’t hurt, I promise.”

* * *

In the end, it did actually hurt. Not the night itself, spending time with Olivia away from the hospital was absolutely lovely. The tall nurse had been begging to get drinks for months and Éponine truly regretted not taking her up on the offer sooner. They’d grown close over the last few years, more than work acquaintances, not quite friends — but after last night, they definitely were. 

But _God_ , Éponine could have done just fine without the mild headache and the throbbing pain in her joints. Not quite the hangover but near. 

“I’m too old for this. Please remind me to never go out with you again” she mumbled when she joined Olivia in the first floor balcony overlooking the lobby for their morning coffee.

They’d been meeting there for longer than the doctor cared to remember, people-watching and chitchatting their break away mindlessly. Today though, she could have easily trade that little tradition of theirs for a nap in the break room.

“Maybe next time let me plan ahead instead of demanding a night out in the middle of the week” the younger woman shot back with a smile, handing her one of the expressos she was holding.

“I didn’t _demand_ , I merely made a suggestion.”

“Yeah and you never do, I didn’t wanna risk you changing your mind or finding an excuse to bail.”

There was no bite in her words but Éponine still felt a pang of guilt. Olivia was sweet, both on and off duty, and after a couple of shots, she had confessed she’d been feeling lonely. Her family lived in the South — her accent gave that away, not that Éponine told her that — and she didn’t have that many friends in the city. Quite the relatable situation for Éponine.

(She’d admit she didn’t have that many friends because she didn’t have time for any meaningful relationship if she was a bigger person).

“I don’t know about you but there’s really something about uniforms that just gets me going” Olivia giggled.

Uniforms. Yeah, no, definitely not for Éponine.

Hold on. Where did _that_ came from?

“What?”

“Down there, look” she pointed down at two silhouettes down in the lobby, clad in military clothing. “I didn’t know enlisting made people this hot.”

Neither did Éponine but it wasn’t the point.

What the fuck was Captain Enjolras doing there with freaking Cosette of all people?

Éponine couldn’t hear them from where she was standing — not that she was _really_ interested — but by the looks of it, they had an appointment. Or at least Princess Fauchelevent did, since she was doing most of the talking with the receptionist. Enjolras took a few steps back before getting his phone out.

Before she could move a muscle, Éponine felt her phone buzzing against her hip.

Then heard it _ringing._ Loudly. It seemed to echo on the walls of the lobby just as it did in her not-so-hungover mind.

She didn’t have to check the caller’s ID to know _he_ was the one on the other end of that phone call. 

Enjolras looked up and their eyes met for a split second before the doctor turned around. Definitely not her most mature move but hey, she wasn’t exactly on top of her game at the moment.

“What is he doing?” she frantically asked, calculating the odds of getting away discreetly. 

He had seen her though. They were low, really low.

“Who?”

“Enj- the soldier. Not the hot blonde, the one on the phone, with the cheekbones? Come on Olivia” she pressed nervously. “What is he doing?”

“Why-”

“Just answer the goddamn question please!”

“I-I think he’s coming over here?” She didn’t sound _that_ sure. “Do you know him?”

No, not really, not exactly. He was just a stranger she had a nap with once. It wasn’t that important, right?

In her pocket, her phone stopped ringing, left untouched. Good. She would need to turn it back to silent mode though. At least until she was certain Enjolras had left the hospital. Or maybe until the end of the day, just to be safe.

When she opened her eyes though, he was standing right there, a polite smile on his _stupid_ face, hands clasped behind his back. There wasn’t a wrinkle on his uniform, not a hair out of place. How very proper. A stark contrast with that memory of him barely awake on her couch she couldn’t quite forget. 

“Doctor Thénardier” he nodded. So, so politely.

And it seemed _genuine_ at that.

“And, ah, I believe we’ve met? A few weeks ago? Olivia, isn’t it?” he added with the same sweet but collected tone, extending a hand to her friend. “My friend and I brought in Éponine’s brother. We didn’t have time to introduce ourselves though.”

The nurse looked confused at first and shook his hand with hesitation. “Oh, yeah, yes, sorry” she smiled kindly — whether she remembered him or not was an absolute mystery to Éponine. “We see so many people here, sometimes it’s hard to recall. Are you here to visit someone?”

No, no, no, no. Olivia couldn’t ask that. Olivia couldn’t ask anything because _Éponine_ didn’t want to know.

“Something like that, yes.” Here it was, the mandatory _vagueness_. “My friend over there is here on official business and I believe I have a coffee date with Doctor Thénardier.”

_He what now?_

She realised she must have said that out loud when they both turned to her with surprised looks. Well, shit.

Enjolras, at least, seemed more confused than surprised. “You texted me?” 

Éponine was pretty sure she didn’t, no. Not possible. Yes, she had been thinking about it — obsessively so, because he both shocked and scared the living shit out of her — but not to the point where she’d have forgotten reaching out to him. Right? She couldn’t possibly be that exhausted.

Unless-

“Here, you can check it” he said while offering his unlocked phone, their conversation displayed on the screen.

And yeah. She did, she did text him. Around 11pm last night, sounding awfully sober at that she realised, skimming through her words in the grey bubbles. Plural. Several texts sent under the influence. Lovely. 

“I-”

“I’m gonna go!” Olivia chimed in with another bright smile.

After working with her for years, Éponine had learned to distinguish the honest from the fake ones and this particular one was very clearly for show. One that was saying she’d ambush her friend later for details and Éponine was definitely not looking forward to it.

“A friend of yours?” Enjolras commented as the nurse was disappearing around the corner, probably off to finish her break in peace — lucky girl.

She sighed, turning back to him and those dark green eyes, already glued on her. “What do you want Captain?”

“You tell me Doc, _you_ texted me, remember?”

Fair enough but today was definitely _not_ a good day and she’d be damned if she let him have the last word.

“I drunk-texted you, I can’t be held accountable for anything I said” Éponine shot back, burying her hands in the pockets of her white coat to keep herself from throwing them at that annoying smile.

“And you came to work hungover?” 

See, since their first encounter, the banter had been innocent, without any real heat nor bite to it. But _this_? Éponine could almost see his judgemental tone dripping from his mouth to the tiled floor.

“How is that any of your business?”

“I might have not taken an oath but protecting my country and my people is-”

“Oh cut the crap. For all I know, you might be some sort of supertrained assassin overthrowing foreign governments and stuff!”

Now that she was hearing it, it did sound a little too much. Just a little. She had probably let her mind wander a bit too far. Just a bit.

She felt her cheeks warming up as he burst out laughing. It suited him, joy. It suited him better than serious looks and shady declarations.

“What’s going on?”

Cosette Fauchelevent was standing a few feet away from them in all of her military glory, blonde mane tamed in a tight bun and impeccable uniform. Even all those years later, she still looked more put together than Éponine had ever felt and the doctor couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter about it all. Jealous too, maybe? Yeah, probably. Everything had always seemed to come so easily to the blonde _princess_.

“Doctor Thénardier thinks I’m a real-life male Nikita” Enjolras joked, looking so different than the man who dramatically said he couldn’t talk about his work a few days ago.

Cosette frowned. “Isn’t Maggie Q Vietnamese? And you were born in Korea, it’s not exactly the same country.”

“Good point Fauchevelent” he conceded with a nod, “but I was actually thinking about the 90s movie.”

“Whatever” Cosette dismissed, waving in his general direction with apparent disdain but the fondness in her voice was telling a whole other story.

What was going on there? And how long had they known each other?

“Have some respect for the hierarchy.”

It sounded familiar somehow and judging by the light tone and the small smile on Cosette’s beautiful face, it must have been a running gag between them. 

“You’re on leave and may I remind you you’re here as my chauffeur? Serves you right for having me drive your band of merry men around in the middle of the night.”

They seemed _so close_ and yeah, ok, it was none of Éponine’s business but the jealousy was roaring in her chest. Desperate to know more.

Craving some of that closeness too.

She needed friends. Ones that didn’t wear uniforms in their line of work, possibly.

Enjolras crossed his arms against his chest with an innocent smile. “Blame it on the doctor.”

“I hardly think Éponine asked you to come all the way from Compiègne. Right?”

It took the doctor a second to realise Cosette was addressing her, her blue eyes fixed on her, expecting a confirmation. She felt her cheeks warming up and quickly nodded, praying none of them would notice how uncomfortable she was feeling.

(How jealous too).

“I had no idea where he lives, so yeah, yeah” she mumbled, looking down.

Enjolras did mention it in passing but she hadn’t thought much of it, too distracted by his stupid face and the whole charming act he had going on. Had she known-

But no, it probably wouldn’t have changed a thing. 

“For the record, how long have you two known each other?” Enjolras asked, gesturing between the two women. “Because you’re ganging up on me quite quickly.”

“Med school, so like… fifteen years back?” Éponine shrugged.

It was basically in a whole other life. Time was a strange concept and unless it was related to her shifts or a food delivery, she didn’t really pay attention. 

“The early 2000s, yes” Cosette nodded, smiling sweetly. “We should catch up sometimes, it’s been forever and I’m getting a little sick of uniforms every now and then.”

_Catch up_? What did they have to catch up on?

“Don’t let Pontmercy hear you say that” Enjolras snickered, distracting Éponine once again.

“Marius isn’t one of my friends, he doesn’t count” the blonde stated matter-of-factly. “So… Éponine? Do you wanna swap numbers? I won’t be able to leave the base again this week but we could have dinner next Friday? Or some other day, if you’re not free.”

Yeah, right, as if she’d ever make plans with another soldier again. She scoffed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as Cosette already had her phone in hands.

Enjolras must have picked on because he leaned over to her with a strange smile. “We don’t work together, she’s much more reliable than I am.”

Well, at least he was self-aware. Good.

In the corner of her eyes, Éponine could see the blonde staring at them. What did Cosette know, exactly, about this whole mess, Éponine wondered. As much as she valued honesty and open communication, she also cherished her privacy. Having a former classmate all up in her business wasn’t exactly a pleasing thought and Enjolras, standing so close to her, wasn’t exactly helping her to stay calm. She took a step back, putting some space between them.

“Oh, I see. How many times did he ruin your plans at the last minute?” Cosette asked, cocking her head to the side.

Damn, she was good. Or she’d been in that exact situation too. 

Next to Éponine, the captain huffed, obviously annoyed by the insinuation. “You realise your fiancé is under my orders, right? Where I go, he goes. He definitely ruined more of _your_ plans than I ever did.”

“What’s your point? Marius and I live in the moment, Alex.”

_Alex_. Cosette called him by his name. Éponine shouldn’t have been bothered by this. They were clearly friends, close ones at that, and they were comfortable with each other, it was only natural. And _she_ wanted him out of her life. Right?

(No).

“Now, that’s a big, bad lie” Enjolras — _Alex,_ her mind provided and why the fuck did it have to sound like Cosette? — laughed and _damn_ , that sound. “You two have the next three or so decades of your lives all planned out for you.”

“Yes but usually not the next week. Nor day, for that matter.”

How could anyone live like that? Admittedly, Éponine wasn’t the most organised person in the world. Most of her time was dedicated to work, the rest of it for resting and she truly had no idea where she would be in a month, even less so in a year. But to share another person’s life and not be able to make any plan? To never know if they’d be home for dinner or where they spent their days?

“And you’re fine with it?” she blurted out, unable to stop herself.

It made no sense and, after all, she was a woman of science. She needed things to make sense.

(She needed someone to confirm she made the right call by pushing the captain away).

Cosette watched her for a brief moment, an indecipherable look on her pale, round face before a smile bloomed on her lips. 

“Tell you what, I’ll treat you to dinner whenever you’re free and we’ll talk about that, alright?”

18 years old Éponine would have been horrified by such idea but it was in another life. She nodded quietly before grabbing the other woman’s phone.

“Oh and about Combeferre. I heard he’s working here too? I need to know all about the hairstyles he’s gone through since 2010, it’s honestly what I missed the most about med school, he was always so…”

The princess was clearly at a loss for words and it made Éponine smile. The first genuine smile of the day and it was all because of Cosette Fauchelevent. Oh, how the tables had turned.

“Creative?” she offered politely.

Eccentric would have worked better but she had a feeling Cosette was too polite to use it. The blonde nodded energetically, eyes sparkling with amusement. If anyone had once told the doctor she’d be having such light and innocent conversation with Cosette Fauchelevent, she would have laughed. And told them to get their brain checked out too.

The captain suddenly cleared his throat, reminding the two women of his presence. Not that Éponine had already forgotten all about him, no. She could feel his eyes on her, could hear him _breathe_. There was no forgetting him, not now at least.

“Don’t you have things to do Fauchelevent?”

“Yes Captain” Cosette bowed down with a smirk as she finished saving her number into Éponine’s phone. “Behave. I’ll know if you don’t”

They watched her walk away to the elevators, waiting for her to disappear into one of them before they turned back to each other. At the same time.

Well, it wasn’t weird at all.

“How long have you two known each other?” Éponine quickly asked, as eager to break the awkward silence as she was to actually _know_.

“I’m not sure to be honest. Our parents are close, they go way back so I guess she’s always been a part of my life?”

There was no reason to be jealous. None at all. And yet, there it was, the jealousy monster, gnawing at Éponine’s heart. God, she was lonely. Lonely and desperate, contrary to what she had told the captain.

And he wasn’t done sharing all the _lovely_ details of his close friendship with Cosette. “Her father actually wished we’d be more than friends for a while before Marius came along but she’s always been like a sister to me.”

“Marius?” she pressed with a dry mouth.

“Pontmercy, yeah. He was with me when we met? Tall guy with a kind smile and a face full of freckles?”

Right, White Dude. She remembered now.

“Oh. Right, yeah. And, mh, does she know about, you know?”

She felt stupid, asking this with a shaky voice. She wasn’t afraid, not really, more like she didn’t really know how to put it in words but she was _dying_ to know. Which, frankly, was going against everything she had told him up until now but Éponine didn’t have time for some self-reflection. Later, maybe, she’d sit down and ask herself _why._

“Our job? Parts of it, yes.”

She bit the inside of her cheek not to scream. It wasn’t fair, was it? Why was she left in the dark with all kinds of thoughts and insane theories when freaking _Cosette_ was kept in the loop?

But it made sense, after all.

“Because she’s not a civilian” Éponine whispered bitterly.

“That’s one of the reasons, yes, but legally, Pontmercy is single so there’s not much he’s allowed to share, even with a fellow soldier.”

Did that mean that _marriage_ weighed in on the Army’s strict orders?

But it wasn’t the point. And it was definitely not something she needed to dwell on. She barely knew the guy anyway.

“And she’s fine with it?”

She had a feeling no one but Cosette would answer that and it was probably for the best. She wasn’t sure she could trust _him_. Not now, not yet.

“I’m really not the person you should ask” he replied softly and for a second there, he looked like he wanted to reach out to her.

A familiar look. A few weeks ago, Éponine would have loved for him to act on it. A few weeks ago, he was merely a handsome guy with a wit that matched hers perfectly. She was curious at the time, of course, like one was when meeting a new person, but some questions were now left unanswered, up in the air next to potential replies — frightening ones.

“It doesn’t matter anyway” she finally said, regaining her composure.

She could do this. She had to. For her own sake and sanity.

“What?”

“I don’t- I can’t see myself doing this” she confessed and as soon as the words left her lips, she felt some regrets joining the jealousy blob.

But it was the right thing to do. It had to be. In the span of a few weeks, Captain Enjolras had wrecked the already fragile peacefulness of her life. She had worked too hard, had sacrificed too much to get there and she couldn’t let anyone ruin that. 

“What are you talking about?”

Oh, how she hated how confused he sounded. 

“Missing dates and waiting for phone calls, wondering where you are or what you do, it’s just- it’s too much.”

Confusion faded away, eclipsed by a glimmer of deception in his eyes. It stung, more than Éponine expected, but she couldn’t let it get to her.

“I understand.”

“I’m under a lot of stress here, the ER isn’t the calmest of workplace and Babet’s on my ass and I just, I need some peace and quiet.”

“Éponine, I understand” he repeated, louder this time. “I really do. You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

How many people had given him that speech? The doctor wanted to ask, desperately so, but it seemed inappropriate. Annoyingly inappropriate.

“I’m sorry.”

His hand brushed against her arm, the touch barely there.

“Don’t be. Sometimes things just aren’t meant to work out.”

He was right, sure, but the finality of it sounded so _wrong_. So much so that it was disturbing.

Éponine grabbed his hand without thinking twice. “But we can be friends, right? I mean, we get along and you seem, well, you seem like a nice guy, if we don’t dwell on the whole secrecy thing.”

It was definitely a bad idea and if the look on his face was anything to go by, he wholeheartedly agreed with her. Éponine didn't want to take it back though, she wouldn't.

“You wanna be friends? Really?” Yeah, she couldn’t believe she just said that either. “We don’t have to, you know. People come and go all the time, it’s not-”

Éponine knew where this was going and it made sense, truly, yet she didn’t want to hear it.

“I just- it scares me, alright? This whole thing about your job but if we’re friends, at least I’ll know you’re alive.”

Sure, of course, that was a perfectly good reason to befriend someone. The only reason she was somehow trying to keep him in her life.

(No).

He frowned, perplexed. “Makes sense… I guess?” 

“You don’t look like it does.”

He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, with her clinging to his arm. And who could blame him, really?

“It’s not exactly what I was expecting but I-I can get behind that” he finally said after staring at her for what felt like forever.

At least, she’d keep those green eyes in her life.

“Good” she let go of his arm delicately, her heart pounding so loud it seemed to have relocated right against her eardrums. 

“Good. I’ll leave you to it then.”

So final.

But it was what she wanted, right? Or, at the very least, what she needed.

Yeah, right.

* * *

She wasn’t really sure when things had gone south. Couldn’t really recall what happened after the doors of the operating room had closed. It wasn’t even that hard of a case. The patient should have been in and out in a jiffy — except the girl’s heart had stopped beating on the table ten minutes into the operation and there was nothing they could have done. Nothing _Éponine_ could have done.

“Thénardier!”

Surprised by the director’s voice, she jumped away from the wall and removed her surgical cap, ready for impact. Babet had stopped practising medicine a long time ago but it never stopped him from crushing his employees when given the opportunity. And this time, Éponine deserved it.

“Do you have any idea of the mess you just made?” he barked, way closer to her than he needed to be.

She took a deep breathe, pushing back the moment when she’d finally have to look at him. She couldn’t, not yet. Being lectured by that greedy little man was the last thing she wanted — and needed — right now.

“That dead girl parents, do you even know who they are? Do you know how much they invested in this hospital?”

Ah, here they were, back to Babet’s first and only concern. _Money_.

What a disgusting piece of shit.

Éponine let out a dark, cold chuckle as she squared up and met his piercing blue eyes.

“A child just died, _sir_. You should show her some respect” she spat, her hands balled up into fists so fiercely she knew her nails would leave crescent-shaped marks into her palms.

“If only you had done your job properly, I wouldn’t have to” he seems perfectly unfazed by her tone, that nasty fucker. “Where on Earth did you study? Ever considering moving back home to practice there?”

_There_.

She knew what it meant. She had heard many people giving several versions of the same speech before and she was definitely past that point in her life when she would let it slide quietly.

“First of all, that’s racist… _sir._ I was born here, I’m as French as you and we have the same alma matter which you probably know since you’re the one who hired me. So I really suggest you take time to think before you say anything else.”

Babet looked offended for a second and Éponine was pretty sure it was only because Olivia and the rest of the team who had gone in surgery with her came out of the room at that very moment. No one liked to be called out, especially in public. 

“We’re not done here Thénardier. I’d be careful if I were you” he whispered in her face, smelling of coffee and cold cigars, before he turned around. 

To go throw a tantrum in his office? Maybe. She pitied his poor secretary.

Olivia appeared at her side and grabbed her hand, visibly concerned. “Are you alright?” 

Éponine shook her head. No, no she wasn’t. How could she be? A young girl just died under her care. Babet and his disgusting attitude, she could handle. The rest of it would take some time to process. She knew the risks, had heard all about it in school, and yet she wasn’t sure she would ever get used to it. Definitely not today, probably not tomorrow either. Maybe never. Life was too precious to be dealt with carelessly.

“Do you wanna get back at mine after our shift?” Olivia offered softly, pressing her hand gently. “We could order pizza, watch The Office or something?”

A tempting offer, really, but Éponine had other plans for the evening.

“Thanks Liv but I gotta see Ferre before I leave and I’m meeting an old friend for dinner.”

Old friend. What a weird, weird label. Cosette and Éponine had never really been friends to begin with, not quite rivals either but friends? Absolutely not. Yet it rolled off her tongue so easily. Probably because the blonde had been so friendly last week when they met thanks to — or rather, _because of_ — Enjolras.

Combeferre gave her a weird look when she mentioned dinner with their former classmate but he was way too polite to make any remark. He wished her a good evening once their meeting came to an end and left it at that with a tender smile. They rarely talked about their med school years. It had been a rough time for both of them and neither doctor particularly liked to dwell on the past. Maybe that was why she’d latched onto him so fast when they met. Ferre never had any question, never pressed her to share any embarrassing childhood memory nor any detail regarding family. He let her talk when she needed to and quietly listened.

Éponine didn’t have many friends, yes, but Combeferre was truly the best of them all.

* * *

Much to Éponine’s surprise, Cosette hadn’t picked a fancy place for their dinner. It was only when a waiter lead her to the table where the blonde was waiting that the doctor realised she was in rather normal, cozy pizza joint. It had been a long day. A bad day. Definitely one of the worst of the recent years. Patients died sometimes, yes, and even though she’d been taught how to handle it, it was still horrifying. She was supposed to help people, to _save_ people.

But she couldn’t help that little girl.

“Are you ok?” Cosette asked after a few minutes of meaningless chatter Éponine barely registered. “You look rather… preoccupied”

“I’m sorry, I’m not the best company, I-I lost a patient today” the brunette confessed, eyes fixed on her glass of red wine.

The last thing she needed right now was to see the pity in the pretty blonde’s eyes.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, Éponine, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s ok, you couldn’t have known. It never gets easier, does it?”

Of course, they weren’t exactly in the same field but at the end of the day, Cosette was still a doctor. One that might be a little more accustomed to wound shots. Or healthy patients who needed the green light to serve. What exactly did _she_ do in the army again?

“I think it’d be dangerous if it did, don’t you think?”

Éponine looked up with a small smile. “Yeah, definitely. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, ask away. That’s why we’re here” Cosette added after a second of hesitation.

“No, that’s not-” _except it totally was_. “Why did you- you didn’t have to take my number and all. We weren’t really friends back in the day.”

“I know, I know. I wasn’t all that friendly then, right?”

Cosette Fauchelevent, the poster child of popularity and success. _Not all that friendly_ , uh?

Éponine was only on her first glass of wine but she was definitely hearing things. “Pardon?”

“It’s alright, you can say it. I know I came off as, well, a bit rude and self-entitled. I didn’t really care about anyone else, I was only focusing on studying and I wanted-”

“To be the best” Éponine completed with a smirk. “We all did.”

“I mean… you’re not wrong.”

Far from it. The competition had been strong and they all had their reasons to be on top at the time, starting with Éponine. Her 18 years old self had so much to prove. To all those rich kids who had their daddy to back them up. To her own parents who were so sure she’d never achieve anything good in her life. To anyone who ever dismissed her. To herself too and all those doubts who nibbled on her self-esteem for so long.

“I never thought you were rude though.” 

“But you didn’t like me” Cosette stated and really, there was no denying that.

Back when they were 18, Cosette was everything Éponine despised. And everything she wanted to be, had she been a little more honest with herself.

She shrugged, vaguely ashamed. “I didn’t like anyone to be fair.”

“Really? You seemed really popular though.”

Yeah, right. Éponine Thénardier, one of the cool kids? No, definitely not.

“Are you kidding me? Me, popular? Amongst the rich kids?”

“Well, did you keep in touch with anyone from our class?” Cosette asked softly.

She was smiling, as always, ever the sweet, gentle person she’d always been — although once upon a time, Éponine had thought it was just an act. Growing up with liars definitely created some trust issues but she wasn’t that cagey kid anymore.

“Some of them, yeah but honestly, not that many? I mean, we bumped into each other sometimes, for the ones who work in the city. And of course, Combeferre recommended me at Le Musain but other than that… not really. Actually, I thought you were the popular one. Everyone wanted to be you” she added naively. 

“But not to be around me. That’s quite different you know.”

And, yeah. Yes, it was. She remembered the whispers whenever Cosette entered a room, how people quietened around her any time she sat close to them but she hadn’t thought much of it at the time. No one in their class had been there to make friends and Éponine had always been a loner. Being left alone with her books and her over-highlighted notes had been a relief but they clearly had two very different experiences.

Their waiter came and went with a smile, leaving them with their pizza and an awkward silence the brunette wasn’t sure how to break.

Thankfully, Cosette knew. “So Combeferre?”

“Mh?” What about him? “He’s alright, asked me to say hi when I told him about tonight.”

After quite the suspicious look but Cosette didn’t need to know that, especially after that whole med school chat.

“Tell him I said hi back next time you see him then.”

Éponine nodded. It’d probably spark a conversation with her friend, about how she ended up here with Cosette and why and, frankly, she wasn’t sure she was ready for that. Or to even think about it in the privacy of her own mind. She’d circle back to another soldier and she was much, much happier in denial.

“It’s funny, I always thought you two would end up together, you seemed great” Cosette _giggled_.

How old were they, 9? 

“With Ferre? No, definitely not” Éponine shook her head vigorously but memories of the first few weeks after meeting her best friend were already flooding her head. “I mean, I did think about it for a grand total of five minutes back in our first year but things were crazy at the time. And we’re truly amazing friends. He got married last year by the way, you didn’t know?”

A spark of hurt shone in the blue eyes on the other side of the table. Cosette quickly lowered her head, feigning a sudden interest in her plate that would have fooled Éponine, hadn’t they talked about their school years moments ago.

_Everyone wanted to be you._

_But not to be around me._

“Well, no. I told you, I didn’t stay in touch with anyone” she reminded Éponine politely.

Her signature smile was gone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise- I mean, I thought we were all, you know, doing our own thing and I never thought...” Éponine trailed off for a few seconds, looking for the right words to say. “I never thought you were lonely.”

“It’s fine. Really” Cosette insiste and sure, yeah, it sounded genuine but it didn’t help with the _guilt_ and Éponine was too tired to ask herself why. “We can’t go back in time and honestly, I’m really fine with how things turned out.”

“That’s good… I guess? Not just saying that out of politeness or anything.”

“It’s not really your style.”

The pretty blonde was evidently more observant than Éponine had ever thought she’d be. And it was weird, realising that after all those years. She rarely looked back on their med school years, not on her own volition anyway, and some parts of it were really blurry but she clearly had Cosette all wrong back then. 

“Indeed. But really, I’m happy for you. And even if I’m still a bit surprised you wanted to do this, it’s… nice.”

For the lack of a better word.

“It is, right? I don’t have many friends around and people on base are, well. They’re polite but they see the uniform and the rank and it can be hard to bond.”

So it was still the same problem then but after all, people never really changed. Or, at least, Éponine thought so.

“But you have Enjolras, right? Should I call him Captain?”

She had. To his face, that is. Her mind was still pretty fixated on _Pretty Boy_. It suited him, truly.

The question made Cosette giggled and the guilt that had come with her confession slowly backed away from Éponine, much to her relief.

“Oh God, no, absolutely not. I mean, technically, yes, you _should_ address him as such but it’s just… so formal. I know my mother never called my father by his rank.”

Well, her parents were in a serious, committed relationship, Éponine and Enjolras weren’t. As much as she wanted to remind her old classmate of that very, _very_ obvious fact, the brunette kept it to herself, biting her lips to stop the comment from spilling out. It’d derail the conversation in a direction she really didn’t want to explore. She had made a choice and it was the right decision. The safest one. There was no need to discuss it furthermore. Especially with someone she barely knew.

“But yes, there’s Alex” Cosette smiled, unaware of her internal struggle. “But where there’s Alex, there’s also Marius, so when I spend time with them, it’s never really just a friendly gathering.”

Marius, Marius. Oh, right, White Dude.

“Your partner, right?”

“Partner” Cosette repeated as if she was testing out the word. “Partner, I like that. Yes, yes, he’s my partner.”

Cute. Éponine almost forgot what her _partner_ — and friend — did for a living. Almost.

Maybe she was being dramatic, maybe it wasn’t that hard but really, how could Cosette and her boyfriend have a normal relationship when he had to keep secrets from her? How did she manage to trust and open up to someone who couldn’t be completely honest with her and put his life on the line for his job?

Éponine stayed quiet for a moment, conflicted, and it must have shown because after a few seconds, Cosette delicately put her fork down to clasp her hands under her chin, expectantly.

“Go ahead, I know you agreed to this because you got a lot to ask.”

Busted.

Welcome back, Guilt.

“Did _he_ say anything?” 

She didn’t know much about Enjolras but he and Cosette seemed close, really close. Close enough to confide in each other, probably. 

But was _she_ important enough to be talked about?

“Alex? No. He doesn’t really open up that easily.” 

She wasn’t then. Lovely. Not disappointing at all.

Except it was, a little bit. Not to mention the fact that they’d known each other forever, longer than Éponine had been friends with probably anyone on Earth — except Zel, maybe — and he didn’t _open up_ to one of his oldest friends. Clearly, the brunette had made the right choice.

It still felt wrong though.

“Marius did say he seemed quite interested in you though but he didn’t get into details, don’t worry.”

“I don’t- I wasn’t- that’s not what I’m scared of” Éponine stuttered, a bit flushed.

“Why would you be scared? I don’t know what Alex told you but-”

“He said he couldn’t tell me anything.” One day, one day maybe she would stop interrupting people. One day. But not today. “That it could put people at risk.”

She could still hear it, ringing in her ears. 

“Oh I see, he went all dramatic on you, didn’t he?” Cosette giggled. _Again_.

Éponine wanted to yell that it wasn’t funny, not in the least, but she bit back that urge and nodded quietly.

“But you knew he was in the military before that, right?” Another nod. There was nothing else to say. “Then what are you concerned about?”

Was there anything _not_ to be concerned about? Pretty Boy had made it sound like it was highly dangerous and incredibly shady, how the fuck was anyone supposed to take it lightly?

“I don’t do well with secrets and danger and people risking their lives over nothing” the brunette spat coldly.

“They don’t do it over nothing, Éponine” Cosette said, gentle but firm. “None of us do. Enlisting is a commitment, one you don’t turn to recklessly. We all had different reasons to do so but we have the same purpose and come to think of it, it’s not much different than yours. You save lives for a living and we protect them.”

_We protect them_. Right, with guns. How very safe.

She had an inkling there was no point in debating that with Cosette though. After all, the woman had pretty much dedicated her life to the military and if Éponine remembered it well, her own father was a colonel. General? Something of the sort. Their beliefs were too different to be debated. Or changed, probably.

And truth be told, it wasn’t Éponine’s only issue with Enjolras’ line of work, far from it.

“But _they_ can’t talk about it” she stated, more annoyed than she wanted to admit. “How do you deal with it? How can you possibly go on day to day not knowing where they’re at or when they’re gonna come home or even if they will?”

Cosette’s smile grew bigger, as if she knew something Éponine didn’t. “Is that why you dumped him?”

Dumped him?

“Wh- how did you know? I thought he didn’t talk about it.”

“He didn’t” the blonde shrugged, “but I had a hunch when he took off to see his parents after he drove me back to Compiègne. I thought he’d stick around to see you, since his team got a full month leave but since he left… and you just confirmed it, so…”

_Oh_.

“I didn’t really dump him though, it’s not like we had anything serious. We went on one date. In a freaking McDonalds in front of Saint-Lazare station in the middle of the night, I mean…”

And yes, they did have a nice time. Éponine hadn’t felt this comfortable with someone in a very long time but it was only one single date. He then had proceeded to blow her off multiple times, bringing work as an excuse.

Which, ok, was actually the truth but it didn’t make it any easier. Quite the contrary actually.

“How romantic” Cosette raised an eyebrow, amused.

“I know, right?”

And with that, the tension disappeared. Neither mentioned the dark-haired soldier til they left the restaurant. Éponine learned that Cosette had participated in several missions in the Middle East, listened quietly as she talked about the camaraderie with fellow soldiers, smiled as she brought up her overprotective parents and how she envied how they were still hopelessly in love with each other after decades of marriage. She asked about Éponine’s family with the same energy, didn’t pry when the brunette dodged questions about her parents, seemed to take a great interest in Azelma and her studies, laughed at the recollection of Combeferre’s questionable hair decisions.

The dinner had been off to a rocky start, yes, but surprisingly Éponine found herself disappointed that it was coming to an end as they were tipping their waiter. Maybe her sister was right, maybe she needed to go out more.

Cosette hugged her on the sidewalk, out of the blue, in lieu of a simple goodbye. As if they were good friends. And maybe they would be. Maybe.

Fifteen years ago, the thought would have made Éponine snicker but it seemed only natural today.

“I know it’s not really my place to say” Cosette said after a moment of hesitation, “but for what it’s worth Alex is a good man. A good captain, a really good friend too. You can talk to him, you know? But please, next time we do this, boys are off the table, alright?”

_Hello again Guilt._ Sure, Enjolras was the main reason she was there but Éponine was confident she had more in common with the blonde than she had first thought. They were both longing for something, someone to rely on. Away from their jobs and the stress of it. Someone they could, perhaps, find in each other.

She nodded enthusiastically. “Promise.”

“Good. That’s my ride” Cosette waves at a nearby car before turning back to Éponine, grabbing her hands. “Please text me when you make it home, yeah? Or I’ll call for a search party.”

It sounded like a joke but Éponine was almost certain she was serious but she wasn’t going to try and find out.

“Sure thing. Good night!”

“Good night Ép!”

The nickname rolled off her Cosette’s tongue so easily it made the brunette smile. Who would have thought they’d ever feel comfortable enough with each other for _that_ to happen?

She didn’t have to wait much longer for her own Uber to park on the other side of the street. The driver seemed friendly but not especially chatty and after a few minutes, Éponine was left alone with her thoughts, circling back to _him_. Before she realised what she was doing, her phone was to her ear, ringing.

“ _H-hello?_ ”

Enjolras’ voice sounded deeper than usual, heavy with sleep. Oh boy, did she wake him up?

“I-I can call you back” she offered nervously, feeling a bit self-conscious despite the two glasses of wine that definitely boosted her courage throughout the night. With Cosette first, now with the soldier. But she wasn’t so brave anymore, was she?

“Doc? You alright?”

So many people had asked that very question already. So many occasions to talk that she had dodged easily, as she always did. Everyone had their own struggles and she refused to put any of hers on one of her friends’ plate.

_Alex is a good man. You can talk to him._

But could she, could she really?

Yes. At least, she thought so. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have called.

“No, I-I don’t think I am” she choked on a breath she hadn’t realised she had held on for one beat too long.

“Where are you?”

No need to be a genius to understand what he meant. It was stupid, maybe a little unhealthy too but the worries in his voice made her smile. It was comforting, knowing someone cared enough to be concerned.

“N-no, I’m not, I’m safe” she whispered, not wanting the driver to hear her. “I’m just- I let someone die today. A child, Enjolras and I-I tried b-but I-I couldn’t and I-I-”

Her heart was pounding like crazy in her chest, faster than it had in years or so it seemed. She was _safe_ and she _knew_ she was but suddenly, it felt like she was 13 again, back at home with her parents screaming their lungs out on the other side of a paper-thin wall. Like they were about to burst into that car, yelling at her that she was just an embarrassment, a waste of space that couldn’t even fulfill her only purpose. But they weren’t there, she was _safe_.

She was, right? 

So why was she trembling?

“Alright Doc, you gonna breathe with me for a moment. Deep it comes and long it goes, yeah?”

The Captain’s voice brought her back to reality, away from the memories of menacing shadows hovering over her tiny frame in a cramped flat. 

“This is stupid, I shouldn’t have-”

“Hey, friends, remember?” he whispered on the other line of the phone, so gentle and low she wondered for a second if it was _real_. 

After all, why would anyone treat her so kindly?

“What are friends for?”

It was rhetorical, of course it was but she wasn’t even sure she would have been able to answer that if it wasn’t. 

_What are friends for?_

Éponine didn’t know, not really. Never had time to actively pursue a friendship. Combeferre was merely an exception due to circumstances. He had sat next to her one day in class and that had been it. She’d been taught people could be useful, granted that you could give them something in return. She’d grown up watching her father asked for favours to be returned later and used people around him without any regret. 

_What are friends for?_

She didn’t know, she didn’t know, she didn’t-

“Long, deep breaths Doc, I wanna hear them” Enjolras insisted — _commanded_ , really. “Where are you?” he asked again, softer.

Long, deep breaths. She could do it, yes. Her lungs were fine — _she_ was fine. She could breathe.

“In an Uber. On my way back home” she added after a second, vaguely aware it wouldn’t be enough for the soldier.

“Safe?”

He sounded worried, way too worried for the situation. 

“Yes, yes, don’t worry” Éponine breathed out with a smile.

It was stupid, so stupid. It was just exhaustion, just stress. She was _fine_ , she had to be. Éponine only had herself to rely on, she couldn’t waver.

“Let me decide what I should and shouldn’t worry about, focus on your breathing.”

There was no arguing with him and the doctor realised she didn’t have the energy nor the will to. She nodded quietly, forgetting he couldn’t see her, and held onto her phone with such force it felt like her arm would stay stuck in place forever.

In and out. Deep and long.

She could do this, it was only _breathing_. Babies could do it and she was a fully grown woman. She could do it. She could, she knew she could.

_Long, deep breaths Doc._

_I wanna hear them._

She stayed there, glued to the comfortable seat of a black car, huffing loudly in her phone for several minutes with nothing but silence on the other side of the line.

In the name of friendship.

Right.

“How are we feeling?” Enjolras asked after a while, his voice still rough from sleep.

It was absolutely not doing anything for Éponine, absolutely not. She was definitely not picturing waking up next to him, ruffled sheets imprinted on his cheeks, his green eyes glassy and unfocused.

Yeah, definitely not.

(But at least it was helping, a little bit).

“Fi-” but there was no point in deflecting it now. “Better.”

She heard him chuckle, the deep, rich sound dropping the final nail in the coffin of her anxiety. It wasn’t really healthy, relying on someone else to control her thoughts and emotions, and Éponine didn’t need a therapist to help her come to _that_ conclusion but she’d focus on that later. Preferably once she didn’t have the soldier whisper words of encouragement in her ear.

“Good, good. Now, do you wanna talk or do you wanna listen?” he offered nonchalantly, as if she didn’t call him in absolute panic moments ago.

As if they were just two friends innocently catching up after not seeing each other for a while.

Friends, right. Éponine got what she’d asked for.

A friend. A friend who decided to spend his leave away because of _her_ , at least according to a certain blonde.

“Where are you? Cosette said-”

“Ah, did you two traitors have dinner tonight?”

_Traitors._ As if.

“Whatever” Éponine mumbled, vaguely annoyed by how easily he was slipping into teasing friendship territory rather than the flirting, grey area they’d been standing on those past few weeks. “She said you left to visit your family.”

“Indeed…”

And that was it? No more information, no detail about his trip or he’d been missing the place? Nothing?

Éponine rolled her eyes, biting back the loud sigh that was menacing to come out.

“They live near Perpignan. My parents” Enjolras specified, despite the obviousness of the fact. “I grew up here actually.”

Under the sun, next to the sea then. With horses.

_My family owns stables._

_I can ride horses._

_Pretty sure we don’t own any white one._

Closing her eyes, Éponine bit her lips. That date wasn’t even that good. It was only memorable because it had been the first in a long, very long time. And because he had kept on dropping stupid details about his posh life. That was it.

“Doc, you-”

“But you don’t have an accent” she blurted out, aching for a safe topic to land on.

Anything to push away the memory of his pretty face shining under the crappy lightning of a deserted fast food joint.

“It was just better to lose it to blend in” Enjolras replied, chuckling.

“For work?”

With anyone else, it would have been an innocent question, a mere detail between people getting to know each other. But not with him, it wasn’t. Éponine was left with dozens of questions and wild guesses of where, when and how. 

“For anything really” the soldier calmly explained instead of calling her out like she was expecting him to. “You have no idea how much shit people from up North gave me when I got into Saint-Cyr.”

Saint-Cyr. Fancy. _Of course_ he was from some prestigious military academy and yet, Enjolras wasn’t bragging.

Éponine smiled, shaking her head. “Up North? Isn’t everything up North for you people?”

“You people? Really Doc?”

“Oh come on, you’re basically from Spain at this point.”

Not quite. But close.

“Please never tell my father that, he’d be offended” Enjolras’ laugh filled her ears and images, her mind.

Blurry faces with dark hair and chiseled features, a bright, soft smile on his mother’s face, kind, green eyes wrinkled at the outer corner on his father’s, laughters and hugs filling a huge house near the beach, the smell of apple pie floating in the air. A picture-perfect happy, loving family, the kind you see on TV. The kind Éponine sometimes met in the ER after a bike accident or when their eldest’s appendicitis burst. The kind she felt awkward around, vaguely jealous too. The kind she watched warily, that made her pick her words even more carefully than usual. The kind she didn’t want to disturb.

The kind she never had.

But here was Enjolras, joking lightly about her meeting his parents, as if they all belonged in the same universe. His parents and their horses and the sun, Éponine and her scars and her old demons.

“Are y-you happy?” she stammered, her mouth suddenly dry. “That you got to see them? I imagine you don’t- you can’t-”

“See them often?” he suggested softly.

“Yeah.”

After all, he didn’t have time to see _her_. There was no way he managed to spend more time with his family.

“You’re right. And I am, happy. Very happy. Very happy” he repeated and yet, he didn’t sound so sure.

Well, that was awkward.

“That’s… good.”

Silence fell between them again, not interrupted by her loud breathing this time. Silence, only silence.

It took Éponine a minute to realise there was still a world outside of this phone call. The radio, humming a familiar pop song the Uber driver had set at a low volume, and the car humming on the road. Thankfully, the man seemed to respect her space. The doctor wasn’t naive enough to believe he wasn’t listening though and when she looked up, their eyes met briefly in the rear-view mirror. But he stayed silent.

(He was _so_ getting a five-stars review).

The doctor nervously averted her gaze, mildly ashamed of the show she’d been giving this complete stranger. Oh, he had, for sure, seen much worse but it wasn’t an excuse. 

Thankfully, Enjolras was quick to capture her attention again. “Did you have a good time? With Cosette?”

“Yes” the world rolled off Éponine’s tongue naturally. “She’s quite different from what I remembered from med school.”

“It’s quite a shame you weren’t close then” the soldier noted and she could hear the _smile_ in his voice.

(See it too, in her head, damn it).

“Why?” she asked even if she wasn’t sure she wanted an answer.

There was a fine line between harmless friendly banter and intentional flirting, one Captain Enjolras seemed to skirt around quite swiftly. It was dangerous. _He_ was dangerous, on more than one level.

“Because maybe we would’ve become friends sooner.”

“Bold of you to assume that” Éponine smirked as the car finally came to a halt. “I wasn’t very friendly in med school.”

Come to think of it, it was almost a miracle Combeferre had managed to stick around at the time.

“We’ll never know Doc-”

“Hold on, we made it to my place” she interrupted the soldier, catching the driver’s eyes in the mirror again. “Thank you. I’m sorry about… earlier. But thank you. Have a good night sir.”

The driver nodded, his eyes wrinkling in the reflection in a brief, kind smile.

“Thanks, you too ma’am” he said before Éponine left his car.

Summer was nearly there but it was still cold at night and she couldn’t repress a shiver when she stepped outside.

“You still there Pretty Boy?”

Her heart, that filthy traitor, skipped a beat at the thought of him falling asleep to her voice as she was fumbling with her keys.

“Yup.”

The door finally opened after a string of colourful curses that had the soldier laughing softly in her ear. If Éponine’s cheeks were a little redder than they should have been, well, no one was there to witness it.

She kicked her shoes off and throw her jacket on top of the pile that her cheap hatstand was somehow still supporting. One of these days, she’d probably come home to a mess of scarves and coats and broken Ikea furniture but thankfully, it was a Future Éponine’s problem. 

(Another one on a long, very long list of shit she didn’t want to deal with right now and the very soldier she had on the phone at the moment was clearly on top of it).

The doctor didn’t bother switching on the lights on her way to her bedroom and simply jumped on her bed with a deep sigh.

It had been a long and awful day, another one, but for once, she wasn’t ending it alone. It was a bit weird, sure, but it was also a nice change.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, I just, don’t know, chatting with Cosette earlier, I realised I didn’t have that many friends and somehow you were the first person I thought of” Éponine confessed, smiling at her ceiling. “It’s a bit pathetic, isn’t it?”

“No? At least I don’t think so? Life can get pretty lonely, there’s no shame in finding ways to fight it.”

And yeah, he wasn’t wrong but Éponine wasn’t ready to admit it, not in so many words. Not even after nearly having a panic attack in front of him — sort of. It was enough sharing for one night. Any more and she’d feel too vulnerable to act rationally.

So she decided to go down the immaturity hole. “Wow, that’s some deep shit right there Captain.”

“Oh come on, I’m half-asleep, don’t make fun of me.”

It definitely shouldn’t be cute — but _oh_ , the images roaming her mind. She wondered what his bed head looked like.

That friendship thing might have been a bad decision.

“I’m so sorry I woke you up.”

“Hey Doc, we’re friends, alright? It doesn’t matter what time it is, that’s what friends are for. Now come on, get comfortable, I’ll mentally tuck you in with a bedtime story.”

He wasn’t real. Captain Alexandre Enjolras — _Alex_ , mental!Cosette sweetly suggested in her mind — was not real. Who made such offer? No one above the age of 9, that’s who.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. I’m an amazing storyteller and I’m sure you could use the rest. I'll put you to sleep in no time.”

And yeah, Éponine wasn’t exactly an expert on friendship but she was pretty sure falling asleep to someone’s vague retelling of a favourite childhood story wasn’t in the job description. She was in trouble. She knew it as soon as her head hit her pillow and it was her first thought when she woke up the next morning in last night’s clothes. 

She was in trouble but she wasn’t sure she really cared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment if you got anything to say, a typo to point out or some constructive criticism! You can find me on Twitter under the same username x


	4. two birds on a wire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s none-”
> 
> “Of my business?” He took a step back to face her and if Éponine minded having him in her personal space, she hid it well. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. This friendship you offered?” His free hand flourished between them. “It comes with a whole lot of caring and worrying and being all up in each other’s business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So about me falling off the face of the earth, to quote Taylor Swift, long story short it was a bad time, long story short I survived. Anyway, quick note (you’ll find the rest of my detailed rambling at the end of this chapter), I’d like to say a massive thank you to everyone who read, bookmarked and/or commented on this since the last chapter. I’ll elaborate in a bit (well, whenever you're done with all 23k words of that chapter, Idk how long reading it in one go takes tbh) but truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, thank you, thank you!
> 
>  **Trigger warning for mentions of systemic/institutional racism, abusive parents and terrorism/terror attacks.** Additional warnings in the notes before each chapter. 
> 
> This is unbeta’d, we die like french revolutionaries on a barricade at dawn in early June. This is a work of (fan)fiction but I did find inspiration in some real life events, more on that at the end.
> 
> I know I said I'd elaborate at the end but turns out I would be running out of characters for that part so here it is. **It might be kind of spoilery** , I guess, so feel free to skip it! I'm aware that Cosette may feel very OOC in this but there's a dynamic from the show that inspired this that I truly didn't wanna lose and I wanted to throw in some strong female characters so I decided that given the education and background her version has in this, it would do. Just, Idk, view it as complete crack if that helps!
> 
> I’ll leave it at that for now, hope you’ll like that new (monstrously long) chapter!

The door of Enjolras’ flat was barely closed that someone was already knocking on the wood panel. Living on base had its perks when it came to avoiding traffic to get to work but the friendly, unprompted visits could get annoying at times. Especially when all he wanted was to plant himself face down on his bed and sleep.

“So Grantaire wasn’t lying, you’re back” Marius laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder once he opened the door for him.

Enjolras rolled his eyes as he unzipped his duffel bag to unpack. It would be quick, his mother never let him leave with dirty clothes, insisting on washing it all so he wouldn’t need to do any laundry after his trip back to Compiégne. “Yeah, he would know, he picked me up from the airport. You put your life in his hands on a regular basis but you don’t trust his word?”

R had his flaws, sure, but he was nothing if not a reliable friend. Well, to his captain at least. And he always kept quiet in the car unless he was specifically asked to chat, which put him on a high position in Enjolras’ list of potential drivers.

“You could have called me” Marius plopped down on the couch, pouting, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

It was hard to remember sometimes that he was in charge of grown men and not a glorified babysitter, especially when Pontmercy, his own right-hand man, was acting like a possessive child.

“And risk getting Cosette mad for stealing you away from her?” Marius had the audacity to scoff at that. “No, thank you. Besides, you’re not my only friend, Pontmercy.”

What was meant to be a jab at the clingy man only made him smile. Definitely not the reaction Enjolras was expecting and he could _see_ the wheels turning in his friend’s head. No, scratch that, he knew exactly where this was going but it was too late to backtrack.

“Oh right, I heard all about you _befriending_ a certain doctor” Pontmercy smirked, wiggling his eyebrows, subtle as ever.

“You know, for people who look so kind and innocent, you and Fauchelevent sure love to gossip.”

Marius smiled fondly. Even after all those years and all the struggles they’d faced — still did, if Cosette’s mood these days was anything to go by — pointing out how good of a team they made, no matter the circumstances, was enough to turn him to lovesick goo. Sure, they annoyed him at times but Enjolras couldn’t regret for a second putting them in each other’s paths. How could he have? They were clearly made for each other.

“We don’t do that, we just share intel about people we care about. The more we know, the better the help we can provide.”

And they were also clearly made to annoy him.

He groaned and rolled his eyes. _The more we know, the better the help we can provide._ Yeah, right. 

“That’s slightly concerning, just get a hobby for God’s sake. And I don’t need your help.” 

“Sure you don’t.”

Did Marius suddenly find some unexpected sassiness in that long, pasty body of his or did the few days they just spent apart helped Enjolras forget how annoying his friend could get at times? Most likely the latter but both options would result in the same annoying way and the captain couldn’t stop himself from sending a nasty glare in Pontmercy’s general direction. 

“Anyway, how’s the family?”

There was a time when Enjolras wasn’t totally comfortable with that question, aware that it was a sensitive subject for Marius. When they had first met, his friend wasn’t talking to his grandfather, his only relative left alive, and even though he had done his very best to hide it, it was obvious to his friends that he missed the man terribly. Admittedly, Enjolras wasn’t always attentive to such matters but he had gotten used to skirting around that topic over the years. 

He just shrugged, hoping Pontmercy would get satisfied with that non-committal reply.

Thankfully, the lad did not insist. _Thank God._ “By the way, one of my mates at the recruitment office called.”

“Yeah?”

“He met a young lad who spoke about us during his preliminary interview. So I guess Gavroche took your advice.” Oh, shit. “Did you know about this?”

Enjolras shook his head, relieved he had hands full of clothes and could easily pretend to focus on the task.

But Pontmercy went on, that curious little shit. “Does _the doctor_ know about this?” 

“If she does, she didn’t mention it.” And alright, maybe they didn’t know each other that well but the soldier was pretty sure he would have been in for a pretty big screaming match, had she known her little brother had decided to enlist.

“So you two are still talking then?”

Enjolras sighed with a roll of his eyes. “Why does this feel like an interrogation?”

“I’m just concerned mate.” At least, Pontmercy had the decency to sound sincere. It didn’t make him any less annoying though.

“There’s no need to be, I’m fine. Really, I’m fine” Enjolras repeated with a pointed look for his friend, mentally praying the man would just drop it now. 

He had been trying to make his peace with the, well, situation. It wasn’t the first time it happened, probably wouldn’t be the last but it didn’t get any easier. If anything, Éponine pushing him away had actually hit him harder than any of his past romantic failures. He barely had had a chance to prove his worth and he wasn’t sure that friendship thing would actually work. Not yet anyway.

“Alright. You know you can talk to me, right?” Marius said softly with a frown on his face.

Another sigh escaped the captain’s lips, annoyed as he was by the turn of that conversation. Maybe the frustration would pass, as would _everything else,_ if only his friends would stop talking about it every chance they got.

“So you can later run your mouth to your girlfriend?”

“Enj, come on!” Marius got up, visibly offended. “You know it’s not like that, we don’t _gossip_. I didn’t tell Cosette about the boy and she only mentioned the doctor after they had dinner because _you_ texted her to say that the doc made it home safe. That’s it. I’m honestly just worried about you. I mean, you pretty much left last week without telling anyone. It’s not like you.”

Not with his men, yeah. He disappeared on everyone else without a word on a rather regular basis. And, really, he’d never second guessed it until very recently. It was just the way things were, the way they had to be. Safety regulations had him and his men sworn to secrecy regarding their assignments and that was it, there was no point in discussing it. His parents understood, so did the rest of his friends. Doctor Éponine Thénardier on the other hand — she was a civilian. 

“I’m fine. Really. And I texted Cosette about it. You know a visit to my parents was long overdue anyway.”

Enjolras didn’t really like playing the family card with Marius but at this point, he was willing to use anything to get out of that annoying little chat. Even if he had to play dirty.

“Yes. But can you honestly say it had nothing to do with the doctor?”

“Well, no but it’s not nearly as dramatic as you’re making it out to be.” It really wasn’t. It was just… _frustrating._ “It probably wasn’t meant to work and that’s it” he added softly, defeated.

He grabbed his empty bag, clothes still neatly folded under his arm, and walked to his bedroom, hoping Pontmercy would get the hint.

He did not.

Marius followed his captain, clapping him on the shoulder before opening the door of the bedroom for him. “Dating can get tricky with our job mate.” 

Wasn’t that just so rich, coming from him?

Enjolras rolled his eyes and dropped the bag on the floor. “Says _you._ ”

If anyone had to be the prime example of finding balance between being a successful career as a member of the special forces and building a healthy relationship, it would be Marius Pontmercy. Sure, there had been bumps in the road with Cosette but when it came down to it, his job had nothing to do with their problems, which they usually overcame anyway, and Enjolras knew that. And yes, he was happy for his friends but it sure made it difficult to hear advice from them when their situations had so little in common.

But Marius seemed to disagree, judging by the scowl on his face. “Hey, it wasn’t that easy for us and besides… you’re to blame for that!”

To blame for what exactly, that was the question. Unlike Pontmercy, he didn’t really snoop around or get involved in his men’s private lives. He offered to listen when they needed him to, yes, and often reminded them they needed their loved ones support because there was only so much the military could provide but that was about it.

“How come?”

“You introduced us!” Marius reminded him, as if he could ever forget that.

Enjolras still remembered that day and how surprised he had been, seeing both of his friends so engrossed in one another before they even said a word to each other. He hadn’t tried to play matchmaker back then, far from it, but sometimes life — fate, God, whatever people believed in — had an agenda of its own.

“Because both you and Fauchelevent were my friends and I thought you’d get along, I never told you to marry the girl.”

Not that they were actually married. Or even engaged. Or were they? It was hard to keep up with them sometimes. Last time he’d checked, Marius wasn’t on board with the whole marriage plan but Cosette could be really persuasive. 

“What can I say? It was love at first sight” Pontmercy shrugged, grabbing Enjolras’ clothes from him before opening the wardrobe, ever the motherly presence. It could be overbearing at times, it sure had been in the first few months of their friendship, but it was _Pontmercy._ He took care of people without thinking twice about it, be it on the field or back at home. 

Enjolras waited for him to put his clothes back where they belonged before asking, curiosity gnawing on his thoughts: “so, the boy?”

He wanted details, he had to admit it. He could hear Éponine’s voice in his head, reminding him that it was none of his business but he _couldn’t_ help it. 

“Right. His exams went well, he should be starting his training any time now I guess” Pontmercy turned back to him with a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring.

Instead, Enjolras felt his heart sink. 

His career was the very reason she had pushed him away. He doubted she would be happy with her brother’s decision. Or with him. 

“I suppose he hasn’t told his sister yet” he finally managed to say as they left his bedroom, as calmly as he could.

Thankfully, Pontmercy didn’t pick on anything. Good. Enjolras really didn’t want to have to go through another cheesy pep talk, not now.

“How do you think she’s gonna take it?” his lieutenant asked pensively.

Enjolras grimaced. “Probably not well. And she’s definitely gonna blame me for it.”

“She wouldn’t be wrong, would she?”

The captain stopped in his tracks, glaring at his right-hand man. Some friend Marius was, really.

“Thanks for the _support,_ Pontmercy.” 

“I’m just saying” the other man shrugged then plopped down on the couch. “You might as well be prepared, I don’t think anyone would like being on her bad side.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong, per se, but it still got on Enjolras’ nerves.

He crossed his arms, frowning. “You saw her for five minutes, what do you know?”

“Oh come on, it was enough to understand the woman is _scary,_ mate. And she knows her way around needles and scalpels” he added after a second, sounding much more impressed than he should have been.

“You’re one of the best snipers I know and you’re afraid of needles?”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive you know!”

Not when it came to Doctor Thénardier, for sure.

* * *

Truth be told, Enjolras was expecting the storm. He knew it was coming, knew Éponine Thénardier would go off at him for pushing her brother to enlist — he didn’t _really_ push the boy but he doubted she would see it in any other way . He just didn’t know _when_ and that was the scariest aspect of it all. He was prepared for the bomb of her anger to destroy the fragile balance they had found and braced himself for impact every time her name flashed across the screen of his phone. But it never came. Instead, he was getting texts about her day and questions about his, snarky remarks about her boss, good night wishes. She was being _friendly_ , she seemed fine and, somehow it was much worse. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her, didn’t want to ruin this lovely, albeit frustrating, little thing they had going on. It was selfish and wrong on many levels and he hated, _hated_ lying to her but for the first time in his life, Alexandre Enjolras wasn’t sure he could let go.

* * *

You’d think Cosette would be used to her friends travelling back and forth by now but considering the bone-crushing hug she wrapped Enjolras in as soon he crossed the threshold of her flat, only a few hours after getting back to Compiègne, it was clearly not the case. It was always the same ritual, be it after a mission or a visit to his parents. Dinner and smiles, a bottle of red wine and endless chatter for the night. Their very own bit of normality amidst chaos and uncertainty. He didn’t know where he’d be next week but there would always be Cosette at the end of it.

“I’m glad you’re back” she whispered in his shoulder as she always did.

Behind her, Marius welcomed him with a little wave before he disappeared into the kitchen. 

“Aw, did you miss me Fauchelevent?” Enjolras teased as she released him.

“Joke all you want, it’s not that often that we get to have dinner like this so I’m appreciating what little time we have together” she pretended to dust his shirt, very clearly avoiding his gaze, “just the three of us and a bottle, without any phone possibly ringing to take you away.”

“It comes with the job” he reminded her softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to guide her to her own kitchen and, possibly, the food.

“I know, I know.”

Hovering the stove and what smelled like tomato sauce, Marius jumped a little when he saw them coming in and promptly dropped the spatula in the pan. His pale cheeks quickly turned pink, the bright tone of shame in Pontmercy’s palette of emotions, but Cosette was too busy worry-staring a hole into Enjolras’ skull to notice. Too bad.

Quickly enough, his right-hand man regained his composure. “You better not be trying to make a move on my fiancée, Enj, I know the pretty doctor just dumped you but Cosette deserves better than being your rebound!”

Now, Marius wouldn’t hurt a fly if not ordered too. He was the kind, respectful boy-next-door that every parent, including Cosette’s, dreamed to see their child meet. That being said, he also had an effective survival instinct and he knew better than to mess with his girlfriend’s cooking in her _own_ kitchen.

Enjolras was about to ruin that little diversion his friend had pulled when Cosette yanked his arm, almost pulling him on top of her.

“Did you talk to Éponine about her brother?” 

Oh, of course Pontmercy had spilled the beans. Of course. 

“I have no idea why we’re still friends” Enjolras mumbled, shaking himself free from Cosette’s grasp.

“Because you love us” she deadpanned without missing a beat. “So? Did you tell Ép about it? Did _she_ tell you about it?”

A bit surprised by the nickname, the captain raised an eyebrow. “ _Ép_?”

“Stop deflecting Enj! Did she say something?”

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. There was really no winning with Cosette. Good thing they were on the same side. Well, professionally at least.

“She didn’t say anything, I don’t think she knows, she would have had my head by now if she did.”

“Ah!” Marius clapped his hands in glee. “So you do admit that she’s scary?”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Yeah, and? It’s part of her charm.”

“Only you would be turned on by someone coming after your ass. Part of her charm, right” Marius mumbled, looking clearly disgusted.

The captain laughed, settling down at the table while Cosette grabbed the wine and glasses from the counter. “What can I say? I love the attention.”

“I’d say you love _her_ attention” Cosette quipped, offering him one of the glasses.

And she wasn’t wrong, far from it, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept. Enjolras liked to think of himself as a honest, decent man, be it with others or himself, but denial just looked _so_ good right now.

Cosette sat by him with a soft sigh. “Alex, why are you doing this to yourself? It’s not the first time it happened, you know it’s better when they walk away early, saves you the heartbreak, so why are you sticking around?”

Part of him wanted to scream and remind her that she had found Marius, that she didn’t know what she was talking about but she _knew._ She had seen it all with him and his failed attempts at a somewhat normal love life. They had been brushed aside quickly as missions had kept him focused, helping him move on swiftly. People came and went and Enjolras never tried to hold them back. 

But it was different with Éponine. Éponine had tried first to hold him back. Literally.

“I was ready to let her walk away.”

The lie felt bitter on his tongue. No matter how many times he kept repeating it to himself, it obviously didn’t get easier. Nor more convincing.

“Sure you were mate” Marius mumbled, earning himself a glare from Cosette.

As sweet as she could be with him, she was also a fierce friend, the kind who would stay in your corner no matter what. Even if it meant defending you against her own partner apparently.

“Come on love, it’s true” Marius went on, a hint of desperation in his voice. “He literally jumped on his phone to call her when we came back from Yemen and we were only gone for _two_ days. We were barely out of the plane that he was already dialling her number”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. He was usually the one making fun of his friend for such behaviour. Being on the other end of the joke wasn’t _nice_ — not that it would stop him in the future, Marius was much, much worse.

“I’m just saying you got it bad mate and it won’t end well, not when you’re not on the same page. You’re clearly expecting more than she’s willing to give you.”

“Marius has a point, you know. If Éponine doesn’t-”

He _hated_ how right they were.

“She wants to be friends, alright? So if friendship is all she wants, then I’m willing to try that.”

And he knew how naive he sounded, he knew but the look the couple exchanged still annoyed the living shit out of him.

“I know what I’m doing” he insisted petulantly. 

Marius crossed his arms over his chest, clearly not buying any of it. “If you really did, you’d tell her about her brother.”

“But it’s not really my story to tell. It’s the boy’s business and, besides, I shouldn’t even know about it. I only do because you two love to stick your nose everywhere, especially where it does not belong.”

Cosette snorted, drawing Enjolras’ attention back to her. “Fine, then how do you think she’s gonna react when she realises you knew and didn’t tell her?”

She would be enraged. Hurt too. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Uttering the words out loud would make it real, final. Keeping it to himself helped him believe there was still a chance for their relationship — their _friendship_ — to come out of this unscathed.

“Friends don’t lie, even by omission” Marius chimed in, finally taking a seat across from his captain, his left hand quickly finding Cosette’s as she nodded in agreement.

“I hate you. Both of you, I hope you do know that.”

They both cackled, ever the picture perfect of a harmonious couple, ever so in sync it could get nauseating at times. Like right now, precisely.

“Hold on, did you say _fiancée_ earlier Pontmercy?”

And that was all Enjolras needed to distract them — and, admittedly, himself — from his Éponine-shaped problems.

* * *

_Friends don’t lie._

Marius’ words had, for better or for worse, stayed with Enjolras much longer than he cared to admit. Pontmercy was right and soon enough, guilt reared its ugly head every time the captain thought about the pretty doctor. He _had_ to tell her, he wanted to. Tried even. But somehow, every call had him listening to her voicemail — which he probably knew by heart now — and she started every text with apologies about how long it took her to reply. Éponine Thénardier was busy, busier than ever, and although he worried about her health and whether or not she was able to rest, a tiny part of him was relieved he could postpone that talk with good reasons. 

(He could’ve texted about it, in details, of course he could have and he kind of did too — if only to make sure he couldn’t back out of sharing such news — but was it truly reasonable to tell her her little brother was joining the army when she could potentially read it between patients? Enjolras couldn’t possibly endanger people like that or so he told himself.)

His daily run around the base with his men was almost over when his phone rang, _her_ name flashing across his screen. He almost tripped over thin air as he read it, the rest of the team coming to a stop around him.

“Fuck.”

It was only a whisper, mostly drowned by the phone that was still ringing but somehow Courfeyrac still managed to hear it.

“Swear jar Captain!”

“Later Courf. Go on without me, I’ll catch up, I gotta take this” he told them before hitting the green button and bringing the phone to his ear.

Marius gave him a strange look, worries written all over his face for a second but he caught himself soon enough. As close they both were with the rest of the team, there were things Enjolras would rather keep to himself and thankfully, Pontmercy knew that.

The sergeant clapped, his usual cheerful smile back again. “Come on lads, we’re nearly done anyway.”

They jogged away in the direction of the gymnasium, Pontmercy’s voice fading away as he cheered them on.

“Hey Doc” Enjolras finally whispered in his phone, his eyes leaving his men’s back to inspect his surroundings, an old habit that came with the job.

It was a sunny day and people on base were as busy as ever but there was no one within earshot. No one to hear him potentially plead his case and beg for forgiveness once he inevitably told her the news.

“Hi! I wasn’t sure you actually meant to pick up for a second here” she chuckled, the sound warming his heart better than any workout had ever done. “Sorry, I meant to call you sooner but I’m swamped with work.”

He had figured as much, between the apologies and the late replies.

“Is everything ok?”

“As much as it could be I guess. I’m fine, don’t worry” she calmly reassured him and yeah, she sounded sincere but the memory of her erratic breathing and the sheer panic in her voice from when she called him after meeting with Cosette was still clear in his mind. She was strong, you had to be to pull yourself through med school, but it was evident that case and its tragic ending had shaken her.

“Are _you_ ok though? You sound a little… out of breath?”

He smiled. “Yeah, yeah, I am, I was out on a run with my team.”

There was a long pause then and Enjolras pulled his phone away to check if she hadn’t accidentally hung up on him. But no, the call was still on, she just wasn’t talking.

“Oh, that means you’re back then?” Éponine asked after a while.

“Yeah?”

He frowned, confused. He was almost certain he hadn’t told her otherwise but actually telling her he was home, in that many words, might have slipped his mind. 

“I thought- anyway, that’s, that’s good I guess? Yeah.”

“Alright…”

Silence settled in once again as Enjolras was mentally cursing himself. It was already bad enough that he couldn’t share much about his work but forgetting to mention he came back was downright stupid. Especially when he so desperately needed _things_ to talk about to avoid bringing up the elephant in the room. Well, in _his_ room at least.

“So what’s up? You mentioned you had something to tell me in one of your texts?”

In one of the very few ones he had the courage to send. He had to tell her. Just couldn’t do it over text, it felt too trivial, disrespectful even, to announce it between good night texts.

(And there was the really good _excuse_ of making sure it wouldn’t impact her work too. A very good excuse.)

He cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling as nervous as he had once been before taking the entrance exam to Saint-Cyr. Or something rather similar. “Yeah, well… Have you talked to your brother recently?”

“Yes, why? Please don’t tell me your friend changed his mind about pressing charges. It’s been months now, it’s-”

It took Enjolras a couple of seconds to realise she was talking about Pontmercy and how the man, a trained soldier of one of the most prestigious, elite special forces teams, had let a sneaky kid steal his phone. A tiny smile spread on the captain’s face as he interrupted Éponine.

“No, no, of course not. I just- he didn’t say anything?”

Bloody hell, things would have been so much easier for him if the boy had been upfront with his sister about his decision to enlist.

“Who?”

“Your brother?” 

Every word felt heavier and more awkward than the last. And Enjolras _knew_ he wasn’t that bad of a speaker, far from it. His superior officers often praised him for it, his team took solace in his kind words in moments of doubt or pain but this wasn’t some pep talk he was giving his men before deployment or some reassuring chat he was having with one of them after an injury. Éponine had made her disdain for his lifestyle quite clear on multiple occasions and he was confident it was the path she wanted for her sibling. Being the bearer of such news wasn’t a position Enjolras wanted, not when he was also to blame for that turn of events. Partially. Well, mostly. The boy probably wouldn’t have gone to the enlistment office if it wasn’t for that talk they had months ago, in that examination room. The worst thing was, the captain didn’t regret any of it. Hell, if given the opportunity, he would probably make the same decision and offer the boy the same piece of advice — maybe with his sister in the room this time though.

“No? I mean, the kid basically talks in weird memes and sometimes I have to look them up to get it but-”

Cute. But she wasn’t helping, quite the opposite actually.

“I- look, I really don’t wanna do this over the phone.”

Did he have a choice though? It was already out there, sort of, and he had made sure he couldn’t retreat. Way to go, past Enjolras.

Éponine snorted and he could easily picture her rolling her eyes — he’d annoyed her too many times already to not know her initial reaction. “Well, you’ve already said too much and to be honest, I’m getting a bit worried here. Spit it out Captain.”

Here goes nothing, he thought to himself with a deep breath. Thank God she wasn’t in front of him so it wouldn’t be his last.

“Marius has a friend working at one of the Paris recruitment offices, he- he met with your brother. A couple of times already from what I’ve heard.”

Instead of the silence he was expecting, Enjolras heard her curse, quite colourfully at that, and then: “I’m sorry, what?”

“Gavroche took the exams to join the Army. And he did well, he’s supposed to start training soon… I guess.”

No, he _knew,_ he had enough people under his command and friends in the military who had gone through the exact same process to be certain training would be starting any time now.

“You’re joking, right? It’s not funny, Pretty Boy” and the nickname that had sounded like a flirty jab until now felt like a slap. 

“I’m not, I promise-”

He had this whole speech ready to make his case and, hopefully, make her look at the situation from his point of view. He was prepared for this, technically, but _of course,_ Éponine didn’t let him even think of getting another word out before she stopped him.

“This is what you talked about, right? That day, when you had me leave the room?”

Well, there was no denying it. 

_Friends don’t lie._

Whatever, Pontmercy.

“I didn’t _specifically_ tell him to do it”

“Oh, I bet you didn’t, Gav rarely does as he’s told. Maybe you should have” she added after a second.

“What?”

But Éponine didn’t elaborate, choosing instead to bite back, colder than he had anticipated. “And how do you think it’s gonna work out for him? He can’t handle authority, Enjolras, he _despises_ it. You tell him to go right, he’ll run left just to mess with you and proves he got free will.”

“He wouldn’t be the first feisty kid to enlist you know. He’ll find structure in the military, maybe peace of mind even.”

That was obviously the wrong thing to say, he realised as he heard her joyless laugh. It’d take more than his usual speech to convince her that joining the military wasn’t as bad as she thought.

“I- he’s my brother, he’s a _child,_ Pretty Boy, not a soldier.”

Enjolras couldn’t help but wonder, once again, about her family and how badly, really, her parents had screwed up for her to feel so responsible, so protective over her younger sibling. But it was a conversation for another day — that is, if she didn’t cut him off her life completely after this.

“He’s 18 and he’s gonna be trained before he officially joins the army” he reasoned, trying to reel in the frustration.

For the most part, he respected other people’s opinions, even when it clashed with his, as long as it didn’t hurt anyone. He was even open to discussion, debating was healthy and it could be a learning experience but it wasn’t an option with Éponine Thénardier. She had made up her mind about the military, long before he even came into the picture, it would seem. Enjolras probably would have had better chances trying to convince a brick wall than trying to reason with her on this.

The doctor surprised him again though. Instead of the accusations and the screaming match he was expecting — had braced himself for even — she just sighed loudly.

“I can’t believe that little shit didn’t tell me, he’s even staying at my place these days but do you think he would have, dunno, tried to talk to me about it over breakfast or whenever? No, of course he didn’t. Goddamnit” she mumbled under her breath, distress piercing through the anger.

Curiosity rose again in Enjolras’ mind and with it, worries. About the boy’s situation, about hers. About whether or not she had time to take care of herself while caring for her siblings. There was the sister, living in the North, and he remembered how guarded Éponine had sounded when talking about her and the expenses she was covering. There was the boy too and his concerning habit of running with dangerous crowds. The doctor hadn’t seemed fazed at all by the circumstances in which Marius and Enjolras had met her little brother, it was clearly not an isolated incident.

But now probably wasn’t the time to ask.

“Maybe he thought you’d disapprove” he offered, hoping he wasn’t overstepping.

Éponine scoffed in his ear. “Of course I do, that’s not the life I want for him.”

“What about what _he_ wants? What about the company he’s been keeping recently? You do remember how we met, right?” he couldn’t help but remind her.

It wasn’t condescending. Or, at least, he didn’t mean for it to be.

Yet he wasn’t totally surprised when she bit back immediately, so defensive. “How is that any of _your_ business?”

“Aren’t we friends?”

Clearly they didn’t have the same definition of friendship. _Clearly._

“So that gives you permission to meddle with my family?”

“I didn’t. Again, I didn’t order him to enlist, I merely presented it as a potential option. And it wasn’t the only one. He made his choice.”

“Of course you’d support this. I mean, it was your idea to begin with. For fuck’s sake Enjolras-” she sounded like there was more to say, more to blame him for and he wasn’t entirely sure it all revolved around her brother. Unfortunately, she kept it to herself.

But then again, it seemed to be the whole dynamic of their relationship, things left unsaid, up in the air for the other person to get a glimpse of before they dissolved into silence.

_Frustrating._

“I think it’s an honourable way to turn your life around, no matter how badly it started. I have soldiers under my command who are living proof of it” he insisted, Grantaire’s face making a brief appearance in his mind. 

_Did you use Grantaire as an example again._

Bloody Pontmercy acting as his conscience, again.

Well, he couldn’t help it if the man was the perfect illustration for this. Enlisting had been the best decision he had ever made and he said so _himself._ And regularly talked about it, totally unprompted. It wasn’t Enjolras making him the token of his own propaganda. Grantaire was content with the situation, proud of who he was and how he had gotten there. And yes, the captain could see a bit of his friend in Éponine’s younger brother, so what? 

She was still silent, he realised and he wondered for a bit if this was another way, quite an immature one, to shut him out furthermore. 

Enjolras was about to ask when she announced: “this conversation isn’t over.”

“Then why do you sound like you’re about to hang up on me?”

“Because I am, I gotta go see the director. Since that girl died on my table, he keeps asking to see me and I managed to find excuses until now because I truly don’t wanna listen to him talk about money and fundings instead of, you know, healthcare and actual medicine but I can’t avoid it any longer.”

Ah, yes, Babet, he remembered the man. From their brief encounter and everything Éponine had told him about her boss, Enjolras could easily guess why she’d been trying to spend as little time in his company.

“I’d say break a leg but I’d be scared you’d take it too literally and try to hurt him.”

“I’m not that bad. I mean, racist, greedy dickheads make me feel murderous sometimes but there’s only so much you can do before you get arrested. Or worse, fired.”

Her tone was lighter, no longer accusatory, as if she’d put a pin on that part of the conversation and moved on for now, so Enjolras allowed himself a smile. “Your priorities are a bit messy Doc.”

“Statically speaking, there’s a higher risk of someone like me being stopped by the cops out in the street than there are chances of being hired for my position, so you know…”

The maths sounded a bit wrong but Enjolras knew it added up anyway. As uncomfortable and disgusting as it was, such was the world they lived in, built on injustice and systemic racism. For now, at least.

“I know.”

He wanted to say more but she probably already knew all of it. Had lived all of it too, without a doubt. 

“It sucks, truly, but it’ll get better someday. Baby steps, you know? Institutional racism won’t disappear so easily. And let’s be honest, I got it much better than most people I look like” she added with a sigh.

And once again, he wanted to ask, wanted to know more. About her life, about the hardships she’d overcome, about her victories and her failures. He wanted to understand how she’d become the person she was today, wanted to take it all in but the timing, as usual, was off. Story of his life, really.

A masculine voice called her name in the background and she cursed loudly in Enjolras’ ear.

“The White Man is calling, I gotta go Pretty Boy!”

“If you need to talk-”

“I know, I’ll call you” but would she, really?

As if she read his mind, Éponine added: “I will, I promise.”

* * *

Le Musain hadn’t changed that much since his last visit, a few weeks prior. Still the same bright walls, still the same floor-to-ceiling windows basking the lobby in the morning sun where Cosette had left him. She had a meeting with the board of directors and, after all, he was only serving as her driver. He could have stayed in the car, sure, had thought about it too but he couldn’t pass the opportunity of meeting a _certain doctor._ Life was short, time was precious and all that.

(Not to mention the fact that they still talked despite Gavroche’s decision. They were still _friends_ and it would’ve been rude to not pop in and say hello, of course.)

He wandered off, leaving the relatively quiet lobby in hopes of crossing paths with Éponine Thénardier, and as he got closer to the ER, so did the noises. The hair on his neck rose, as if the adrenaline in the air were contagious, but before he could get any closer, a ginger-haired nurse planted herself in his way. 

No, not just any nurse. Éponine’s nurse friend. Not exactly the person he was looking for but she could probably help him out, right?

“Hi, Captain Enjolras, right?” she asked with a bright smile.

The soldier nodded politely. “Hello Olivia. How are you?”

“Oh, you remember my name, good, good- I’m good too, thank you! Are you looking for Éponine?”

“Actually, yes, yes I am” there was no point in lying. “Do you happen to know where she is?”

“Waiting for her coffee” she replied, raising the cups she had in her hands. “First floor balcony. Here, take them, I’m sure you remember the way.”

He did, indeed. Could still see _her,_ quickly turning around as their eyes met. He had actually looked up when coming in with Cosette, hoping the pretty doctor would be there, leaning over the glass railing as she had before, on a day not so different from this one. Except this time he wouldn’t get dumped. They had probably missed each other off a few minutes. Timing, again, was quite tricky when it came to their relationship. Friendship, yes, right.

He was getting the hang of this, he really was. Trying at least.

“What about your coffee?”

“No worries, I’ll get another one from the break room. Go ahead Captain!” she encouraged him, her smile keeping on growing and growing.

Oh, she was definitely happy to _mess_ with Éponine. No one could be that happy to give up their morning coffee to a complete stranger, especially when working in such a stressful place.

“Alright. Thank you Olivia.”

She nodded, a tad too excited, and Enjolras quickly left, feeling the weight of her gaze on the nape of his neck as he walked away.

Engrossed in her phone, furiously texting, Éponine Thénardier didn’t see him approach, barely flinching when he put a cup of coffee under her nose. She was obviously expecting her friend and didn’t even bother looking up as she grabbed the cup, still typing with her free hand.

Well, that was anticlimactic.

The soldier cleared his throat, pleased to see how startled she suddenly looked. “Doc.”

Oh but the look of pure surprise on her face. Priceless. He stored it in a corner of his mind, for sadder days.

“W-what are you doing here?” she nervously asked, pocketing her phone.

“Driving First Lieutenant Fauchelevent around, delivering coffees, just serving my country, the usual business.”

Éponine frowned, narrowing her eyes at him as she seemed to assess the sincerity in his voice. For a second, he wondered what he had done to appear so untrustworthy. For a second only, bits of their previous encounters rising in his memory to remind him why, really, she had That Look on her face. And yeah, he couldn’t exactly blame her for it. _The usual business._ It wasn’t, not really, and she knew it, everyone around him knew it but they never took that joke — a running gag at this point — as sternly as she did. It was so easy to forget she wasn’t exactly part of his world or that she didn’t really want to be part of his life. Not the way he wished she would anyway.

Whether she believed him or not, Enjolras couldn’t tell but she eventually grabbed one of the cups, grazing his hand. The touch barely lasted for a second but it was enough to make him beam at her, his heart galloping happily in his chest. Sadly, she didn’t seem to notice, focused as she was on her coffee, breathing it in with her eyes closed as if it was the only thing keeping her alive in this very moment.

“I thought you were on leave?” she asked after a couple of sips, shooting a suspicious glance his way.

Enjolras shrugged and leaned over the balcony next to her. “I owe Cosette a favour or two. How have you been?”

She snorted over her cup. “Fine.”

“You sure sound like it.”

“It’s none-”

“Of my business?” He took a step back to face her and if Éponine minded having him in her personal space, she hid it well. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. This friendship you offered?” His free hand flourished between them. “It comes with a whole lot of caring and worrying and being all up in each other’s business.”

The tiniest of smiles unfolded on her mouth as her gaze softened, still on him. There she was again, the girl he had shared late night fries with. Enjolras quickly buried his hand in the pocket of his jeans, fighting the urge to trace the curve of her lips with his fingertips. 

She shook her head and looked away. “That’s a terrible way to present it.”

“Is it? It worked wonders for me over the years”

“You can’t order me to like you like you probably did with your men.” 

“Well, yes, you’re a civilian and martial law hasn't been declared last time I checked so I can’t, indeed, but abuse of power has never really been my thing anyway. I promise, they all genuinely like me” or so they said at least. “Besides, we’re more than friends. I trust each of them with my life.”

He had to. Sure, trust had to be earned but in their line of work, it was also a necessity. The key element for their team to function on the field.

“Literally” Éponine muttered darkly over her coffee. 

Enjolras wasn’t sure she meant for him to hear but he nodded anyway. After everything he had told her, he could hardly deny it.

“They’re my brothers, not just some mates from work” he insisted.

The doctor turned back to him at that, curiosity shining in her big, green eyes. “Do you think Gav will find that?”

She had lasted longer than expected before bringing up her brother, now that they were face to face. Her texts, after that awkward phone call, had been scarce, only short updates on her work schedule — no improvement on that front but she never really complained — and very few _good nights_ every now and then. No mention of the boy, no question regarding his enlistment and the training he was about to go through despite the fact that she had direct access to a reliable source right _there._ But no, nothing. Until now.

“I can’t guarantee it” he said after silently watching her for a bit, looking for any trace of the anger he _knew_ her brother’s decision had lit. “But he might, yes… did you talk to him?”

She sighed, closing her eyes again, frustration crumpling her forehead. “Yeah… I expected him to go full moody teenager on me but…”

“But?”

Her green eyes met his and her shoulders sagged. 

“He was so calm, so… I don’t know, determined. I’d never seen him like that. Like he found a purpose you know?”

He did. Many of his friends and their families had gone through the very same experience. His had been, well, different. There hadn’t really been any other path for him. Coming from a long line of soldiers, Enjolras had always known he’d end up joining the army, one way or another. More than that, he had convinced himself, from a very young age, that he _had_ to. That he couldn’t be the one to break the tradition. 

“I never thought he’d choose to wear a uniform” she confessed with a sad smile. “We didn’t really like any of them, growing up, seeing one was bad news, and if it wasn’t for you...”

_He wouldn’t have._ The words didn’t leave Éponine’s mouth but they both heard it.

Enjolras cocked his head to the side, the shadow of a playful smile dancing on his lips. “How mad at me are you?” 

“I don’t know… ask me again when he’s done with his training, yeah?”

He couldn’t help but grin at that as he nodded, eyes shining with hope. That they’d stay friends for a bit longer, that somehow she could picture a future he was a part of. It was a bit of a stretch, sure, but it was enough for now.

He resumed his initial position over the railing, deeply aware of her close proximity yet careful not to touch her. Because they were friends, yes, but mostly because he wasn’t sure he could handle it. The brush of her fingers against his had been enough to send his weak heart spinning and Enjolras wasn’t brave enough to try and find out what pressing their shoulders together could do to him. 

Éponine cleared her throat and in the corner of his eyes, he saw her straightening, clearly trying to appear as collected as possible. “How was the family trip?”

He bit the inner side of his cheeks to stop himself from laughing. As far as attempts to small talk went, that one seemed a little hypocritical to the soldier. Wasn’t she the one who claimed _her_ family was none of his business?

He settled for a short, slightly breathless “lovely” before feigning a fit of coughing to hide his snicker that had her turning completely to him, brows closing together with worry.

“Lovely? That’s it?” she asked in disbelief.

Oh, so she wasn’t worried then, just expecting him to elaborate. Their eyes met again as he turned his head in her direction and Enjolras raised an eyebrow at her, still fighting the urge to laugh.

“Why? What do you wanna know?”

“I don’t know” she shrugged. “Is there anything you can share or is it all classified? Are your parents spies too?”

Despite her smirk and the playful tone, there was something in her eyes that was telling him the question wasn’t completely a joke. As if, somehow, a part of her was expecting him to nod and confess that, yes, he was the child of a couple of highly-trained assassins or something.

Like he would tell her if that was the case, right.

“I’m not a spy, Doc” Enjolras scoffed, “and neither are my parents. My father’s a retired colonel, well, retired diplomat too I guess, my mother’s a teacher. They’re normal people with quite a normal life.”

“A dipl- it keeps getting better, doesn’t it?” She rolled her eyes, lifting the cup of coffee to her mouth before adding, “I mean, I already knew they own stables. You get that it’s not very normal, right? For us common folks.”

Ah, yes, the horses. Why did she keep going back to that very detail, Enjolras wasn’t quite sure but out of everything they’d shared that night, clearly that was the one thing that had stuck with her. 

Maybe one day he could give her a tour of said stables. Maybe it would bring an end to that obsession. Probably not. 

“Yes, well, my father comes from old money.”

The doctor looked like she wanted to say more, curiosity plastered all over her pretty face but somehow, she decided against it, shaking her head. Enjolras was all too familiar with that expression and as much as he liked watching her and her every emotion, he would be quite happy to never see _that_ _one_ ever again. Wishful thinking, given the nature of their relationship. Friendship.

“What about you?”

She took a sip before replying: “my parents don’t own horses.”

“So you’ve said.” Multiple times. Every time he’d tried to ask about her family.

_None of your business._

Enough of that.

“Sorry?”

“That’s what you told me. The first time I asked and every time after that.”

Éponine lowered her head, gnawing on her bottom lip. And, really, Enjolras thought about leaving it at that. She was clearly a private person and he understood the necessity of it better than most people. Yet he couldn’t help but _wonder._ And worry. She seemed so guarded at times and her behaviour around her brother raised more questions in the soldier’s mind than he cared to admit.

Not to mention the double standards of it all.

Mostly because he wasn’t in any position to point that out but oh, well, Captain Alexandre Enjolras was nothing if not brave. And bold.

“I don’t mean to pry but it does seem a bit unfair that you’d get to ask me questions about _my_ family and shut me out in the same breath when I ask about yours, don’t you think?” he pointed out blankly. 

He had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate it if he voiced his concerns out loud.

_It’s none of your business._

No, indeed, Enjolras couldn’t be that straightforward, not on this, not with her.

“I know” she sighed, squaring her shoulders, eyes on the ground. “I just- we don’t talk, my parents and me. We’re not, we’ve never been a happy family, you know, like the ones you see on tv? It was… a bit of… of a mess” she paused for a sip of coffee and as he saw her fingers trembling around the paper cup, Enjolras started to regret insisting.

Who was he, really, to demand answers to his questions when he couldn’t even reply to hers most of the time?

But Éponine went on and the tremors in her voice faded as the words poured out from her lips. “They struggled a lot with money, with us too. Yelled a lot, at us, at each other too. My father, he was… he didn’t care much for us. At best, we were just… some kind of background noises. And at worst… well, he’s not, was not someone you’d wanna cross. He had us locked up in our room whenever he was doing, er, ‘business’ I guess, yeah, there’s no real way to call it… he got into all sorts of shady stuff, anything he could sell, when he wasn’t just… stealing and conning people far more dangerous than him. And my mother, she just, I really don’t know, I guess helping him was easier than trying to escape? Maybe it's all she's ever known, I just… I don’t really like talking about them” she let out a throaty laugh, void of any joy, and shook herself before turning to Enjolras, lips pressed tight together.

Fighting back tears.

Oh God, he was such a dick.

He opened his mouth, the apology rushing on his tongue but she beat him to it. “I like to think that my siblings and I, we just, don’t know, raised ourselves. It’s not that far from the truth anyway. So… yeah, my parents don’t own stables” she added after a second, a sad smile curving her mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

She tensed at his words and despite their closeness and how still she was, Enjolras felt like she was running far, far away from him. He looked away, unable to bear that sight any longer. Below them, the ground floor was as calm and quiet as he had left it. Thankfully, no one seemed to be paying them any attention, not a head looking up to see them so close yet so far apart. No one to witness him ruining things, _again._

“I don’t need your pity” Éponine spat, anger dripping from every syllable.

“It’s not pity, it’s not that at all” he insisted and oh, how he wished he could’ve just reached out and embraced her, shielded her. 

From the bad memories, from his terrible, terrible questions too. His hands twitched over thin air, longing for her, but he held on.

_But we can be friends, right?_

He had agreed then, in earnest too. Had thought it could work, somehow. Had wanted it to, at least, because it had meant keeping her in his life. Now, Enjolras wasn’t so sure it was a good idea or that he could even commit to it.

And really, what was it with this balcony and dramatic turns of events in their conversations? Although, contrary to their previous encounter in that very location, he still had a chance to turn things around, to try and maybe, maybe make amends.

“Every child should be loved and protected, especially by their parents. I don’t pity the adult that you are” he explained softly, staring at the registration desk that looked so tiny from up there, and if it wasn’t for the quiet sniffles that were emanating from her general direction, he wouldn’t have been sure she was still by his side. “I’m just, well, sad and quite enraged for the child that you were. Kids are innocent, they deserve to be shielded from threats from the outside world, they shouldn’t fear their own home.”

Silence settled between them, not the comfortable kind, but neither moved. Éponine could’ve left but she merely stood there, immobile at first as Enjolras stared into his untouched cup of coffee. Waiting, really, to see her next move. He’d been trained to face all possible contingencies, years in the field had sharpened his skills when it came to deciphering and analysing other people’s behaviour. And yet, with the lovely doctor, Enjolras could never quite get it right.

He was expecting her to go for the jugular this time, rightfully so, to call him out on his naivete and his privileges, hell, to bring up the bloody stables again. Instead, she leaned in, nearly dropping her head on his shoulder.

“You’re making it really hard to stay mad at you.” 

The whisper tickled his cheek and he couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed on his mouth.

“Maybe it was my plan all along.”

“Nah” her shoulder bumped into his, “I think you genuinely mean everything you say, without a hidden agenda of any sort.”

It was probably one of the nicest things she’d ever said to him. Definitely the nicest of the day too.

He grinned at her, straightening up against the railing. “Why, thank you Doc.”

“It’s ironic, you know?” she snorted with a quick glance at his face before looking down her empty cup. “How sincere you can be while keeping a whole part of your life a secret.”

“It comes with the job.”

How many times had that exact phrase been used? With his friends, his family, playfully, brandished as the ultimate excuse, planted like a defensive wall against the outside, civilian world? How many times would he have to repeat it? To his friends, to his men, to his family? How many times before he grew tired of it? Before it lost all meaning?

“It must be lonely” she mused with a hint of sadness, so quietly Enjolras realised it wasn’t meant for him.

A small, minuscule really, part of him wanted to roll his eyes and remind her that _she_ chose to push him away. That she’d dumped him in this very spot. That she had no right pitying him.

_I don’t need your pity._

But mostly, mostly he was just happy that she _cared._

“Not really, I’m not alone you know.”

It was a weak argument but for his own sake, he couldn’t bask in her concern, not for long. Not if he wanted to get her out of his mind at some point. Preferably soon.

“Being lonely and alone are two very different things.”

“Indeed but I’m not lonely, I have a great team and like I said, they’re family to me. I’m not lonely” he repeated with a smile.

And he wasn’t, he really wasn’t. Leading the Alpha Team had him jumping from flight to flight — when he wasn’t literally jumping off a plane — too often to allow him to find himself alone with his thoughts. And inevitably, after a mission, came the dreadful paperwork and the never-ending training, the mandatory celebratory drinks with his friends too, the occasional dinner with Cosette and her mother as well. Enjolras didn’t have time to be lonely, not really.

Time to think about _her_ though? Somehow, since their paths had crossed down in that lobby, he always managed to find it, his mind wandering back to her fingers working quickly on a fresh wound, to her suspicious look as he asked her out, to her cheek pressed on his chest when he woke up from a much too short nap on her couch. How ironic. 

“And you never wanted more?”

“I think we both know the answer to that question Doc” he huffed.

A lovely shade of red spread across her cheeks and she looked away, embarrassed. Good, at least she wasn’t pretending nothing had transpired between them. It made him feel a little less miserable.

“But to be completely honest with you” he turned his back on the railing, eyes shooting up to the ceiling, avoiding her delicate profile, ”having my own family has never really been part of the plan. Not that there’s even been room for one in my life anyway, the army kinda took over a long time ago. And maintaining a relationship is already hard enough for, well, normal people with normal lives but it gets trickier for people like me. I mean, some make it work, one of my men even has kids but it takes efforts on everyone’s part, especially for civilian partners. His wife’s a saint honestly” he chuckled. He still wasn’t quite sure how Feuilly managed to find a woman ready to handle it all, from the dedication to the team and the uncertainty that came with each mission, but he was grateful. For his friend, for the happiness it brought him and for the heartwarming anecdotes from home Feuilly always regaled the team with at the most random moments. “Meeting someone who’s willing to make the sacrifices and compromises that come with our commitment… it’s not that easy” he admitted, more bitter than he wanted.

And _of course,_ Éponine picked up on that, snorting. “So what, you’re gonna spend the rest of your life alone, picking up the phone whenever Patria calls? Is that really what you wanna do with your life?”

Yes.

No.

Not exactly but Éponine had made the choice for him anyway. Not that he would tell her that. As frustrating and disheartening as it was, some things were better left unsaid. She might have taken her brother’s enlistment in good part but she had made it clear she couldn’t handle the pressure of his job. He’d just have to accept it, push all thoughts of her in the furthest corner corner of his mind. All thoughts, all memories, all of her witty comebacks and her messy curls bouncing with every step and her plump lips grazing over his in that ghost of a kiss he was most definitely _not_ thinking about whenever they spoke. He could lock it all up in a box, he had to. If not for the sake of that travesty of a friendship he had fooled himself into accepting, at least for his own.

A resigned sigh left his mouth as he fought to regain his composure. “I told you Doc, I’m not alone.”

He lowered his head to her level, vaguely surprised by the indecipherable look on her face. He probably shouldn’t have been. She was an enigma after all, her reactions and emotions riddles he couldn’t quite solve, constantly shifting from warmth to indifference, pulling him in and pushing him away. Maybe that was why Éponine Thénardier was so enticing. Maybe it would pass if he put some distance between them. Maybe.

“You’re annoying, you know that?”

Her mouth opened again, ready to drown him in what was certainly a riveting and biting explanation but her pager went off at her hip. 

Saved by the bell then.

“Ah, duty calls” he chimed in, ignoring the pang of frustration in his chest. Their time together always came to an end abruptly it seemed, he should’ve been used to it by now. Should’ve stopped expecting more.

“Yeah, it does” she mumbled, turning off the high-pitched ringing before she looked up to meet his eyes. “My break’s almost over anyway. Guess I’ll be the one leaving you this time, I got a meeting of my own. No country to save nor government to overthrow I’m afraid, so not really your cup of tea.”

He simply smiled at the jab. There was no point arguing with her, not now, not here. Not when he couldn’t make a compelling case without breaking a couple of laws and a few non-disclosure agreements.

“Good luck?” Not that she needed it but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything else.

“Thanks. I- I’ll talk to you later I guess?” The question hung in the air, uncertainty making her eyelids flutter.

Pulling him in.

“I’m only a phone call away Doc. I would love to hear you rage on about how annoying I am” he smirked.

And he would. He truly would love that. Loved any sharp remark she sent his way, loved the confident smile that came along each of them. Or at least, the one he imagined whenever they spoke over the phone.

What was it that she kept saying about herself again? Ah, pathetic. Right. 

“Yeah, unless you’re in a _meeting_ ” Éponine retorted accusingly.

Pushing him away.

There truly was no winning with Éponine Thénardier and as she walked away, the soldier realised he didn’t hate it nearly as much as he should have.

Once her white coat clad frame disappeared from his sight, he left the first floor balcony for the lobby, dropping on one of the comfortable chairs across the front desk. The receptionist paid him no mind, engrossed in a phone call that had her nodding every ten seconds. Her discreet chatter quickly faded away to mere background noises as he closed his eyes, willing the flashes of green and brown curls away.

Cosette found him in the same spot, same position a couple of hours later, nudging him awake with her boots to his shin. 

“Come on Sleeping Beauty, off we go” she laughed, clearly in a good mood.

Her meeting had gone well then. Brilliant. She deserved the victories.

It took her exactly two minutes to finally open her mouth after they quietly got into the car and Enjolras drove into the parisian traffic in Compiègne’s direction. He was expecting some updates on her project with the UN, so dear to her heart that it had her running around for funds and support but come to think of it, he should’ve known better. 

“I bumped into Éponine on my way back” she announced innocently.

But her eyes were glued to him. The soldier didn’t need to look away from the road, he could _feel_ it.

He smirked. “ _Accidentally_ or did you go out of your way to “bump” into her?” 

“Accidentally. What, are you gonna tell me you stayed in the lobby and waited for me for two whole hours without trying to see her?”

Enjolras scoffed, taking in the not so subtle accusation. “No. I grabbed coffee and I oh so happened to bump into Doctor Thénardier as well. What a small, small hospital.”

She didn’t need to know the actual details. Marius and her were already probing into his frustrating _friendship_ with the doctor every chance they got, they didn’t need any incentive.

“Hilarious” Cosette deadpanned, shifting away from him on her seat. “She didn’t mention you.”

Enjolras ignored the uncomfortable twinge in his heart. “Why would she?”

“You’re the only reason she even agreed to have dinner with me last time. And since you’re basically the only thing we have in common, I figured, you know, that she’d talk about you if she saw you but she didn’t. Interesting” the blonde dragged the last word out and he could _hear_ the smile in her voice.

His eyes left the road for a second, annoyance shot straight to his oldest friend.

Cosette laughed, the sound filling the car. “What? It’s true, she didn’t and maybe it’s just because she doesn’t want me to get any idea.” Very likely, considering how private a person Doctor Thénardier was. “Or maybe it’s because she likes me now. For me, not just because I’m your friend. I think she does” she added with genuine glee and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a hint of surprise.

It was a side of her he hadn’t seen in a while. Her childhood insecurities were now buried deep under layers of confidence and success, protecting her tender heart.

Under any other circumstances, Enjolras would have reminded her of it, of how strong and charming she was, of how people really liked and admired her. He was a good friend, had been her fiercest and most loyal cheerleader until Pontmercy had come into the picture but today was a bad day. An awful, frustrating day.

“Congratulations” he spat sarcastically.

Cosette, bless her heart, took it in stride, her tone light as she replied. “You’re not allowed to make fun of me, I’m really happy about this. You know I’m not the best with people?”

That wasn’t even remotely close to the truth. She was good with him, had put up with everything he’d said and done for _decades_ and he hadn’t been that easy to get along with at times.

“You’re a good leader” he chose to say instead with a frown, not ready to dive into their adolescent memories. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Yes, he did. He’d been there all along, when she was a lonely child watching games others excluded her from in the schoolyard during recess, trembling with envy. He’d heard the lies she fed her parents about her so-called friends with happy smiles that never quite reached her blue eyes. He knew she didn’t fit in then and how deeply it had scarred her.

“Anyway” she cleared her throat, shaking the old insecurities away. “I invited her to my birthday party.”

Oh no. 

“Are you sure about this?” Enjolras wasn’t. He really, really wasn’t about this. Selfishly so. There went his plan to take a few steps back and confine the pretty doctor to a safety box in his mind. “She’s the polar opposite of a uniform chaser, I doubt spending an evening in a room full of officers is her idea of a good time.”

“Well, _I_ think it could help her see us in a different light and calm some of her fears regarding her brother” Cosette objected. So it wasn’t a last minute decision then. She had _planned_ on inviting Éponine. Brilliant. 

How was he supposed to stay away from her if his own best friend decided to keep her around?

  
  


“Plus, I’d really like it if we could spend more time together and I’m pretty sure you feel the same, so you’re welcome Alexandre.”

He groaned and tightened his grip on the wheel, knuckles turning white against dark leather. 

“You don’t have to put her through that to hang out with her.”

And she certainly didn’t have to put _him_ through that.

“I said I invited her, Alex, not that she agreed to come.” 

_Oh._

So there was hope yet. It didn’t feel like it though.

“She told you no?” He frowned, painfully aware of how far from nonchalant he sounded, despite his best efforts.

“Aw, is that disappointment I see on your face?” Cosette cooed and reached out to pat his cheek. He needed new friends, preferably ones who wouldn’t be as entertained by such predicaments. “And no, not exactly, we didn’t have time to chat, I gotta text her the details. But I’ll keep you posted if you want.”

For someone so smooth, Cosette wasn’t particularly subtle on that one. He decided to ignore it. Playing dumb had its perks and if it could get his friend and her ever growing need to insert herself in his nonexistent love life, it was fine by Enjolras. A little pretending could go a long way. Maybe he’d end up convincing himself for real at some point, instead of toying with denial.

“You know we might be unable to attend, right?” 

There were only a few weeks left to the leave that had been imposed on the team but really, the next mission couldn’t come soon enough. Each one required his undivided attention, he would be able to easily bannish the doctor from his thoughts.

“Nonsense, Dad made sure you would” she giggled, _actually_ giggled, visibly proud and happy with herself.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.” What a filthy, filthy lie. “Just reminded him that the Alpha Team isn’t the only one he can send on assignments, especially when one of you just got engaged.”

He was her bright smile from the corner of his eye, a wave of warmth rushing through his heart. Thank God Pontmercy had finally come to his senses.

It wasn’t enough to distract Enjolras from the fact his friend had gone _over him_ when he was technically her superior officer, straight to her father, to meddle with _his team_. It wasn’t the first time, it definitely wouldn’t be the last but it never got easier. As dedicated as Cosette was to her job and the country, deep down, she was still that lonely child who yearned for love. Except now, she had the means to get it. That and whatever she wanted, whatever her father would grant. In this case, more time with Pontmercy.

“Cosette-”

She cut him short, her hands flying up, tense. “Just let me have this, alright? I just want to celebrate my birthday with the people I love. Around me, happy and safe, not on the other side of the world, doing God knows what. Just once Alex” she insisted, sounding every bit like the petulant and stubborn ten years old who had once wanted to teach him how to braid her hair.

(It had been a messy affair, ending in genuine tears and painful knots.)

“Pretty sure Pontmercy was with you last year” Enjolras reminded her with a sigh.

“Yeah, because he got shot two weeks before.” Ah, yes. That particular detail had slipped his mind but then again, it wasn’t like Pontmercy’s life had been in danger, not really. “It’s already settled anyway so there’s no point in arguing.”

And she was right. After all, if General Fauchelevent had agreed to extend the Alpha Team’s leave, Enjolras had nothing else to say. Because unlike Cosette, he actually _respected_ the hierarchy. 

* * *

When Enjolras, clad in his service uniform, pushed the base’s gym’s locker room’s door, having missed the team’s morning run for a meeting with their commanding officers, conversations died down immediately. Feuilly saw him first, taking in the outfit and solemn look of his captain, and he dropped the towel he was holding to square up, hands clapping his thighs as he stood up. The rest of the team followed suit straight away, turning to him in one swift move to salute him despite their sweaty face and, for some, the lack of a shirt. They were technically on leave, yes, but they all _knew_ what it meant when he was summoned by Command. Another mission was right around the corner.

“At ease, lads” Enjolras told them with a nod. “I’ll make it quick. As you probably guessed, I just received orders for the next job.”

Only Marius seemed a bit surprised, a light frown creasing his forehead. “Already?” 

Enjolras handed him the file he just received without much of a glance. 

“It’s an eight month mission, could be extended for a couple more depending on the mid-assignment assessment” he recited, so tense it almost hurt to get the words out. “Civil-military cooperation through a company we’ll be temporarily incorporating. So you’ll be able to stay in contact with your families this time, at least through phone calls at first. Command will coordinate the mailing logistics from here with the two bases we’re gonna work with. Still, get your business in order, spend some time at home. We’re leaving in a fortnight.”

The news was met by quiet nods and small smiles, the relief of knowing they would be able to call making up for how long they would be away. If some of them had been dispatched for much longer assignments before ending up on the Alpha Team, it was the first time they’d be gone this long, as a group. It wouldn’t be easy, especially for Feuilly whose oldest child was barely 5, but Enjolras trusted them to make their peace with it. He wasn’t exactly happy about it but they didn’t have much of a choice. Command was calling the shots and discussing orders was definitely above their paycheck, not to mention ranks. And after all, they had all known what they were signing up for when they’d been recruited for the team.

“Do we already know where? Sir?” Bahorel asked, quickly correcting himself. 

As the latest addition to the group and the youngest among them, he was still struggling with ranks sometimes. Not with respect, never, he’d been nothing but polite and respectful but the Alpha Team was tight, both on and off the field and he had yet to grasp the subtle difference in the atmosphere. Being on leave and hanging out with the rest of the boys off base probably didn’t help on that front. But he would learn, they all had.

Enjolras offered him a reassuring smile, brushing aside the small mistake. “Mali, near the Niger border. And no, before you ask, it’s not part of Operation Barkhane, we’ll be there with the UN but we’ll talk about it in detail during the briefing” he added with another smile, trying his best to appear as reassuring as possible and nip their fears in the bud. Mali could be a sensitive subject among their ranks and his men deserved to spend the next couple of weeks in peace. “Sergeant, step outside with me for a minute, will you?” he then asked Marius, his lips dropping down into a thin, tight line. 

Enjolras could only feign for so long in front of his team and as soon as they were out of the locker room, frustration and anger tightened his jaw.

“What?”

“Your fiancée better not be behind this” the captain whispered, pointing at the file Pontmercy was still holding, unopened.

“Enj, she would never interfere like that.”

Nice try but that wasn’t very convincing. Not when Enjolras knew exactly how far Cosette could go for Marius.

“We both know that’s not true, she already did, multiple times. She did that, a few days ago, for her bloody birthday party” he reminded his friend, struggling to keep his voice low. “But this? This isn’t slowing down the process to get you back in the field like she did the last time you came home injured. This is her putting her personal life first and deciding where to send this team. We are not under _her_ command, this is not how we do things around here nor is it fair to any of the lads.”

All of them were highly-trained soldiers, more used to rescue missions and covert ops than cooperating with civilians and NGOs on humanitarian projects on foreign soils. That was _not_ what the Alpha Team had been assembled for.

And yes, alright, there was more to this mission than Cosette’s project — more to rile him up, so much more that he had bitten his cheek to stop himself from discussing his commanding officer’s _sanity_ so hard he’d drawn blood. But Cosette had gone too far this time and if he couldn’t speak freely with his hierarchy when it came to orders, he could most certainly give _her_ a piece of mind.

Pontmercy, on the other hand, didn’t seem convinced his fiancée had anything with them joining the humanitarian project she’d been working on for months. Of course. Bloody fool.

“I’m sure there’s another explanation.” 

“Feel free to share your ideas then, I’m all ears but quite frankly, I’m not sure I’ll buy any of them.”

“So she’s guilty because you have a hunch?” Pontmercy’s tone shifted to annoyance. Ah, there he was, Romeo, living up to his call sign. “Was it Cosette who gave you the file? Did she personally assign you the mission?”

Well, _no_ but it wasn’t exactly a compelling argument for Cosette’s defence. At best it could raise a reasonable doubt but Enjolras was too angry to even consider that.

“Come on, her own father was in the room and you know how he gets with her, you experienced it first-hand. Besides, it’s _her_ project and you finally got engaged mate.”

How many times had she ranted about it? How innovating it was, how much it could improve healthcare in war-torn countries and during emergencies, how many lives it could save? Cosette cared about this, Enjolras knew that much, and having Pontmercy around was probably her dream situation.

“What?”

“That flat-pack med bay kit project that had her looking everywhere for private funds and such? That’s literally all she’s been talking about for the past year, do you even listen to her when she speaks or do you just stare at her like a brainless lovesick fool whenever she’s in the room?”

Those last words left his mouth too fast, too loudly too. The rest of the team had probably guessed by now that they weren’t exchanging pleasantries and it calmed him down a bit. He couldn’t be seen — or heard — arguing with his right-hand man, it wasn’t good for morale. Especially when they were about to leave their families and the comfort of their own to go guard a fancy UN project.

(And that uranium mine that had come up during the meeting. Not mentioned on the file, of course not. The army would deny it, the government too, as they always did, but Enjolras couldn’t think about that one now. One battle at a time.) 

Thankfully, it wasn’t their first fight and Marius was rather skilled when it came to defusing a situation. 

“Enjolras” Pontmercy let out a deep breath before meeting his eyes, chocolate brown finding dark green, calm clashing with fury. “I understand that you may be angry but don’t take it out on me, alright? I’m just surprised because the first trial isn’t supposed to start before January. I’d know if Cosette was to be deployed in two weeks.”

“You have to keep things from her, maybe she had to do the same this time” the captain suggested, voice trembling with exasperation.

“It’s a joint humanitarian project with the UN, it’s nowhere near our missions’ level of classification, if anything, it profits from being advertised, unlike what we do. She would have told me, no matter what. Especially if she had to leave the country.”

“Could be retaliation for you not wanting to get hitched in the first place” and yes, yes, Enjolras heard how stupid it sounded as soon as it was out.

Pontmercy’s eyebrows met high on his forehead, the frustration clearly getting to him. “For Christ’s sake, you know Cosette, you know she wouldn’t do that, she doesn’t have a petty bone in her body and she wouldn’t mix our private life with work. She’s not involved in this and I _know_ that the more you think about it, the more you come up with dumb, _dumb_ ideas, the less it makes sense to you too.”

Marius had a point, a fair one. Not that Enjolras would tell him.

He let out an irritated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. Where anger went, a headache usually followed and he could already feel it pounding in his skull. “Then do tell me how we somehow ended up assigned to her bloody project when we’re not supposed to work on anything so official and public?”

Sure, their faces wouldn’t be known to the general public but there would be records, so many records. Oh God, the paperwork that awaited.

“I don’t know, alright? I don’t know. It’s not like we’ll find out. You know we rarely do, that’s not in our job’s description. And you’ve never discussed orders before” Pontmercy pointed out, rightly so.

“I never had someone below my rank go over my head to meddle so badly with the chain of command until now.”

But Cosette, as it turned out, hadn’t meddled at all. As a matter of fact, she was even more stunned to learn that the Alpha Team was assigned to her MediCube project than Enjolras and Marius combined.

“I need to make some phone calls” she told them once they were done filling her in in her office, a few buildings down from the gym. “We’ll talk about this over dinner, alright? I swear I had nothing to do with that but I’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise.”

She all but kicked them out of the room, her phone already glued to her ear as she abruptly closed the door on them, her eyebrows furrowed so close together they formed one single line on her face.

But her promise and her initial look of surprise had done very little to appease Enjolras’ anger, quite the contrary. Pontmercy following him around for the rest of the day and pretending nothing happened didn’t help either. They miraculously made it to dinner without biting each other’s head off, although with very little patience left on Enjolras’ part and his right-hand man all out of anecdotes. 

Unlike the night of his return to Compiègne, there was no glass of wine nor hug waiting for the captain. Just Cosette anxiously typing away on her laptop at the kitchen table, her usually elegant bun hanging astray behind her left ear. The sight calmed Enjolras a bit, unlike Pontmercy endless chitchat, and he quietly sat down across his friend, ready to listen.

“The UN decided to speed things up” she announced, pushing the pile of pizza boxes that laid to her right towards him without even looking at it, “they wanna be able to use the MediCube widely by next summer. And by widely, I mean, _worldwide._ By next bloody summer.”

She tensed even more, mumbling something that highly sounded like _dickheads_ but neither men dared to bring up Courfeyrac’s swear jar. 

“And you weren’t notified because...” Enjolras raised an eyebrow as Marius grabbed a pizza box before jumping on the counter behind his fiancée.

“Because I’m a glorified PR agent for now, Alex.” His name fell from her lips colder than it ever had. Harsh but he probably deserved it. “I’m still trying to sell this to private investors right now because Le Musain pulled out at the last minute and there’s only so much you can do with government fundings.”

Green eyes flashed in Enjolras’ mind as Cosette went on about timing, prototypes and testing. Her voice faded for a few seconds while he was wondering how Éponine Thénardier was doing.

She’d texted earlier, wishing him a good morning. Shit, he’d forgotten to reply.

Pontmercy’s loud disappointment brought Enjolras back to reality. “... So you’re not coming to Mali with us?”

Cosette shook her head, her eyes never leaving the screen. “No. I’ve been told another medical team will handle the trial for, well, neutrality's sake. Civilians.”

That was another detail of the mission that made Enjolras’ skin crawl. Civilians and some fancy scientific trial held in a country that had been facing terrorism and armed conflicts for the past few years. The liabilities seemed endless, the paperwork too. It wasn’t poor judgement on whoever had made that call, it was utter _stupidity._

“So that’s why they’re sending us” Marius huffed, glaring at the unnecessarily large slice in his hand.

Enjolras would have laughed if he wasn’t so bothered by the profoundly disturbing mess that was coming their way. 

(That and his superiors' not so hidden, uranium-flavoured agenda that he had yet to break the news to his right-hand man. But not in front of Cosette, not if he could help it. Being a general’s daughter could open a lot of doors but thankfully it had yet to raise her accreditations.)

The blonde finally closed her laptop, cracking her neck with a groan. “When are you leaving?” A smile finally bloomed on her face when she lifted a slice of pizza to her mouth, catching a string of melted cheese with her free hand.

“A couple of days after your party” Marius informed her happily, beaming both at the food and the prospect of celebrating his fiancée’s birthday.

Right, the bloody party. The one that had had her asking — demanding even, probably — her father to keep the Alpha Team on the bench for a little longer. Like he needed the reminder that Cosette could — and would — interfere if she saw fit.

Enjolras dropped his pizza, throwing a cold smile in his oldest friend’s direction. “So your plan did work out after all, we’ll all be there. _Happy and safe._ ”

Cosette rolled her eyes, mouth too full of cheese and tomato sauce to bite back on the sarcasm.

“You genuinely thought I had something to do with this, didn’t you?” she huffed once she was done with her first slice.

Enjolras wasn’t directly looking at Pontmercy but he saw him wince anyway, perched on his counter, out of harm’s way. Marius had seen them fight before, he knew how quickly their conversations could escalate — and had been with his captain for the rest of the day, watching him resort to every ounce of self control Enjolras had not to purely and simply explode at every word thrown his way.

“Yes” lying was unnecessary since she had already figured him out.

Always had, somehow, no matter the situation. It was both a blessing and a curse, their almost lifelong friendship.

A muscle twitched in her cheek and a flash of hurt shone in her bright blue eyes. He hated it and the memories it brought back.

Cosette sitting alone in class, slouched over a book and ignoring whispers around her. Standing in a corner of the schoolyard, teeth biting her trembling lips as she took in the laughters and camaraderie she wasn’t privy to. Waiting desperately in the hallway of her childhood home, anxious that no one would show up to the lavish birthday party her parents would throw every year.

He hated it and how, despite it all, his doubts wouldn’t vanish.

“Don’t you trust me?” Her voice broke on the last word.

“I do” and he did, he truly did, “I also know you’d go to the edge of the world to be with Pontmercy as he would for you, so...”

He let his suspicions fill the tiny kitchen, unsaid but so obviously loud to all three of them. Cosette flinched, taking it in.

It didn’t calm her down though. “So _what_ , Enjolras?” She rarely used his last name, not without his rank at least, never in private either, not with such a plummy tone. That alone was a good indication of how fuming she was feeling, in case he hadn’t noticed her fists, whitened knuckles shaking on the table — he had. “You thought I’d ask my father to promote you to company commander out of the goodness of his heart and have your team put on my mission just so I could spend more time with my partner?”

Partner. She had been using the word more and more lately, her lips curving tentatively around it as if she were trying it out. But there was no trace of the usual joyful novelty now.

Pontmercy seemed to catch it as well. “Guys-”

Enjolras didn’t let him launch himself into another optimistic pep talk. “I know this is hard, alright, having him leave every other day and not being able to enjoy your time together as much as you’d like. _I know_ ” he insisted, frustration tingling all over him.

“Guys-”

“Well _I_ knew what I was getting myself into when I decided to _commit_ to Marius” Cosette stood her ground, flattening her hands against the wooden table as if to anchor herself to it, “I’m more than willing to wait for him and cherish what little time we get between your team’s missions. Yes, yes, this is complicated and frustrating but it’s worth it.”

“Guys-”

“But is it really?” he heard himself ask coldly.

Somehow, he wasn’t quite sure they were still talking about her possibly manipulating her father to have Pontmercy around during her next deployment.

It seemed to be the last straw for Marius who jumped off the counter, discarding his pizza to stand behind to his fiancée, his large hands hovering over her quivering shoulders.

“Alright, enough. Enj, again, mate, I love you but you’re no expert on this” Enjolras scoffed at that, “and come on, you two basically grew up together, you know better. Besides, don’t you think Cosette would have made sure she’d be a part of the mission if she really meddled for me?” 

He didn’t look like he was expecting an actual answer and Enjolras rolled his eyes. Yes, yes, Marius had a point but that didn’t make his condescending tone any easier to stomach. 

“But Cosette, my love” Pontmercy leaned in, trying to catch her eyes but she didn’t move an inch, still glaring at Enjolras with all her might, “you have to admit it did make a bit of sense to wonder if you could have been vaguely involved in this. At first glance” Marius added nervously.

Playing the buffer between them two could backfire and he _knew_ this, had learned it the hard way. 

“You’re projecting” she suddenly said.

“ _Excuse me_?”

What was she on about now?

“You’re projecting” Cosette repeated without missing a beat, “you’re projecting what happened with Éponine onto us. We’re not you and her, this” she grabbed one of Pontmercy’s hands, “is an entirely different situation. _I_ understand your commitment and I respect it, just like Marius does mine because guess what Alexandre? It’s the same bloody thing. We might not serve in the same unit but we both know what comes with the job. We’ve known from day one and nothing, _nothing_ will change that, no matter where your missions take your team or how long I’m deployed. Nothing.”

Silence draped itself over them again, heavy with implications that crushed any suspicion Enjolras had left. He’d just offended one of his oldest friends. No, not offended. Hurt. It was far from their first fight but it felt different in a way. Wrong too. He could be a stubborn bastard at times and had learned long ago to rely heavily on his gut but clearly, evidently, that strategy wasn’t always foolproof. And sure, he could be difficult, to put it mildly — strict, headstrong, terrible really — but he wasn’t unyielding nor was he stupid. He knew when and how to apologise when necessary. And for Cosette and all of their years of friendship, it was.

“I’m sorry, I was a dick-”

“Swear jar!” Marius interjected, relief washing over his face as if he was solely responsible for his captain seeing the light. 

Enjolras couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll give Courfeyrac a tenner tomorrow.”

“You were saying?” A playful smile curled up the corner of the blonde’s mouth.

“I was an idiot. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have doubted you Cosette.”

“I don’t know why but I feel a but coming” she mused, sounding rather unimpressed.

He knew how to ask for forgiveness, yes, but he was also quite good at getting a point across.

“ _However_ you did just use your connections to have us stick around here just so we could see you blow your candles” he reminded her, finally paying attention to the pizza that was still waiting for him. “And you had this one benched for longer than necessary last year” his head jerked in Pontmercy’s direction.

“You brought him back with a bullet in his shoulder, what did you expect?” She still sounded outraged at the memory, like Enjolras had been the one shooting the lad. Seriously.

“What happened to ‘we know what comes with the goddamn job’ uh?”

“Swear jar!”

* * *

There was a time Enjolras had dreaded Cosette’s birthday parties. For six years old Alexandre, it had meant sitting still and pretending to be the prince in distress, awaiting the return of the warrior queen, obviously played by Cosette while the rest of the _lucky_ guests had been standing there, pretending to be various characters from their own little fantasies — side characters, obviously, no outshining the birthday girl was allowed, it was the law in the kingdom of the Fauchelevents living room — most of them waiting for the cake to release them. Most of those parties, during their childhood at least, had tragically ended in screams and tears, with friendships broken left and right and cold promises to never speak again, mostly directed at Cosette. It had gotten better, over time. She had stopped forcing people to play, stopped inviting all of her classmates in hopes that few of them would show up too. Looking back on it, her 18th birthday party had been the most successful of them all and it still held a special place in Enjolras’ heart. It had been the last day they had spent together before his departure for Saint-Cyr. After graduating high school, after a whole lifetime — at least back then — of feeling like they didn’t really belong anywhere, with anyone but in their own bubble, together. And here they were, nearly two decades later. Not quite but close. Years had blended together as time went by, especially considering he had missed many of those milestones. Birthdays, family reunions, Christmases. It came with the job, he had made peace with it when applying to join the Alpha Team, but it still stung every now and then.

Thankfully, this year, he could be there and for once, Enjolras was quite happy to see the Fauchelevents’ elegant flat bare of any uniform, saved for the ones appearing in the several photos hung on walls. Despite most of the guest list serving in active duty, Cosette had insisted for the party to be _casual._ As casual as it could be with high-ranking officers around, that is. 

Standing in a corner where Grantaire had abandoned him a few minutes after their arrival, Enjolras was sipping his first — and only, sadly his car wouldn’t drive itself and him back to base, and Grantaire had made it clear he was there to _party_ — glass of champagne of the night when _she_ appeared.

Éponine Thénardier, cinched in a short, red dress that stopped above her knees, dark curls cascading around her shoulders. Her walk was hesitant, be it because of the black heels she had on or the unfamiliar faces surrounding her, Enjolras wasn’t sure but he was certain of one thing. She looked stunning. She looked stunning and he was stunned. Two things.

She caught his eyes, finally, waving with a smile before she walked up to him, a hint of confidence to her steps. 

Oh, he was so screwed. That made it three things. Three things swirling in his mind, making his heart pulse stronger with each beat as she approached him.

Denial-shaped apples clearly didn’t keep the doctor away.

“Hello Pretty Boy” she whispered gleefully, looking genuinely happy to see him. 

It was nice, heartwarming really, after everything that had gone down between them.

(And everything that hadn’t, much to his frustration. Her dress tonight, her whole look really, wasn’t helping much with that.)

He cleared his throat, raising his glass as if to toast to her. “Doc.”

_Damn_ , she looked good and he had a hard time tearing his eyes away from the expanse of caramel skin that bloody dress was showing. Had Courfeyrac been a mind-reader, he would have had to give the man a couple of bills for all the profanities that were going through his brain right now. No, that wouldn’t do. Friends, they were supposed to be friends. Friends who were clearly attracted to each other but friends nonetheless. Friends didn’t lie and friends didn’t lust after each other.

Friends didn’t purposefully stay away from each other either, so maybe he’d give that friendship thing a shot.

When did he get so weak?

“You should take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“I’m sorry, I- you look lovely. Great. You look great, really great.”

He could feel his cheeks getting warmer but thankfully, the doctor didn’t comment on it, merely smiling proudly at him.

“Thank you. You look great too, although I gotta admit I was expecting to see you in uniform” she raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down.

“No, not today. It’s a private gathering and Cosette insisted we’d take the more… casual road, hence the civilian clothes.”

Éponine nodded slowly, still watching him although her eyes weren't anywhere near his. Her free hand brushed against the collar of his crisp white shirt and she seemed to realise what she was doing a second too late as their eyes finally met. She cleared her throat, clearly fighting off a smile, and awkwardly patted his shoulder.

“Do you mind if I, well, stick to your side? I don’t know anyone besides you and, well… I’m not that good at making small talk with strangers when there’s no medical emergency of any kind involved. I've been told injuring people as an icebreaker is kinda frown upon.”

“Sure, of course, yes” he mumbled as she looped her arm through his, almost leaning into him. Almost.

Of all the times she could have picked to get that close to him, to _touch_ him, it had to be tonight. When she was wearing that strapless red _thing_ , while they were surrounded by fifty something people, half of them outranking him. People he absolutely didn’t want around when he’d finally cave in and forget all about friendship and distance, potentially decency as well.

If. _If_ he caved in.

It had to be a joke. Quite a cruel one at that.

“So this is how the military lets loose?”

Enjolras laughed, resisting the urge to look down again.

“With a general on the premises? Not to mention all the other high-ranked officers around.” Bloody Cosette and her lengthy guest list. Bloody red dress. “No, not really, no.”

The curious “who?” Éponine let out halted his mental curses and the soldier finally looked down, blocking out anything but her face. That was clearly the safest territory but it did nothing to steady his heart nor his mind. She barely had makeup on, her lips lightly tinted in a demure shade of red that wasn’t quite matching her dress, and weariness was still noticeable, up close, despite the evident effort she’d done to cover it, but _God_ , she was beautiful. He wanted nothing more but to kiss the fatigue away but that was a bridge Enjolras couldn’t cross. Not here, not now. Not with her.

What were they talking about again? 

The General. Right.

“Cosette’s father…” he trailed off, amused by her look of utter incomprension. “He’s over there” he added, nodding in Jean Fauchelevent’s direction.

Blissfully unaware of how cavalierly one of his subordinates had singled him out, the older man was towering over most of the guests he was currently entertaining, a warm smile on his freshly shaven face. Even without the uniform, he exuded authority, always had. Enjolras recalled being seven, maybe eight years old and shrinking into himself whenever Cosette’s father peered at him. Back then, Fauchelevent didn’t have the four stars adorning his jacket now and he still didn’t need to show them around to command a room.

Strangely, somehow, he seemed to have no effect whatsoever on Éponine Thénardier.

“Looks like a nice man” she ventured with a shrug, visibly unimpressed.

“He is. Absolutely loves his wife and daughter to pieces and quite a fine leader” Enjolras elaborated, “reckon he’s one of the best men I know.”

He wasn’t vexed Éponine seemed impermeable to the charisma of a man he had looked up to his whole life. He _wasn’t_. 

(Maybe a bit. Just a bit. He could respect her feelings towards the military but disrespecting one of his heroes, _come on_.)

Suddenly, Fantine Fauchelevent materialised herself in front of them, radiant in a navy blue pantsuit that complimented her eyes.

“Don’t let him hear you say that, he might try to push poor Marius to the side to have you marry Cosette instead if he knew how much you admire him” she faux-whispered as she leaned in, her petite frame shaking with laughter.

Enjolras cleared his throat, amused. “Mrs Fauchelevent.”

“Alexandre, Alexandre, Alexandre” she jokingly slapped his chest, “I’ve known you your whole life, how many times have I told you to keep calling me Fantine? You know, like you did when you were four and came to find me crying because Cosette wouldn’t let you win at Hide and Seek?”

She rose on her tiptoes to kiss one of his rather flushed cheeks, offering a kind smile at Éponine before she offered the doctor a delicate hand.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Fantine Fauchelevent, Cosette’s mother.”

“Éponine. Thénardier. Éponine Thénardier” the doctor _stammered_. Oh. Was she nervous? “I’m, well-”

Fantine’s face positively lit up at the information. For a second or two, Enjolras almost expected her to happily jump in place like a child but she merely clasped Éponine’s hand in both of hers.

“Oh, Cosette’s classmate, right? She said you might come, she’ll be so happy to know you’re here, so happy” she squealed. 

_Squealed._ What was it with the Fauchelevent women and Éponine Thénardier? Granted, Enjolras could see the appeal, obviously, but he had never seen Cosette nor her mother take to someone so quickly.

It probably shouldn’t have bothered him. It didn’t, not exactly, although there was a part of him that selfishly wished he could’ve just kept Éponine to himself. But then again, if she was to get involved in Cosette’s life — and there was no doubt the blonde wouldn’t let the doctor go after tonight, simply because she showed up — she’d stay in his as well.

Ah, so much for keeping his distance.

(Not that he minded. He wanted her in his life, no matter what role she was willing to play.)

Fantine left them after a long yet excited tirade about hostess duties that Enjolras didn’t really catch, lost in thoughts of future dinners with four plates on the table in Cosette’s kitchen. 

As if she’d make time out of her overpacked schedule to drive all the way to Compiègne to set foot in a _military base_. Right.

“Earth to Pretty Boy?”

Éponine waved a hand in front of his face and he realised she had been talking for quite a bit now. About what, precisely, he couldn’t tell for the life of him but he smiled softly, prompting her to go on.

“Give me that” she scoffed, unceremoniously snatching his champagne flute, “I shouldn’t have come, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Surely she had known in advance the kind of crowds she would run into here, so her visceral disdain for the army couldn’t possibly be the issue here. Frowning, Enjolras replayed their short exchange in his head. He hadn’t been flirting, at least not too much, hadn’t really said anything to get under her skin — mainly because said skin was fairly distracting and he had been, and still was, focused on his chances of getting _all over_ it rather than under it. 

Fantine’ hearty laugh reached his ears from across the room then and _oh_. 

Cosette it was. 

It had to be.

After hearing bits about it from both women, Enjolras had brushed it aside as some old classmates losing touch after graduation kind of story and that had been it. But come to think of it, there had been signs, details he should’ve picked up on. How guarded she had looked when he had first mentioned Cosette in the lift at the hospital, how standoffish she had seemed every time their paths had crossed. How giddy yet insecure Cosette had sounded in the car after mentioning the invitation.

_I went to med school with a girl named Cosette_.

_You’re basically the only thing we have in common._

_She’s quite different from what I remembered from med school._

_Maybe it’s because she likes me now. I think she does._

“I disagree, reckon you made the right call” he buried his now free hand in the pockets of his slacks, where they couldn’t reach for the flute or worse, the flute thief, “Cosette will be happy to see you, you know. She was so excited to tell me she invited you.”

It was probably for the best to keep her doubts quiet, both to respect his friend’s privacy and to stop Éponine from second guessing her decision any further.

“I wasn’t expecting her to.”

“Invite you? Be happy you’d come?”

“Both, I guess? We weren’t really friends in school, I- well, I kinda misjudged her back then and…”

And he would definitely have to give her a little push to finally get the story out in the open.

“It happens, Doc. Doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind and turn it around.”

Whatever had transpired between Cosette and Éponine in med school was clearly all water under the bridge for the blonde, judging by how eager she seemed when it came to the doctor. 

“No, I mean, I was a total dick” Éponine confessed and he did his best not to laugh at that. “She just, she walked in class one day with her perfect hair and her perfect smile and she just- she seemed to have it all you know?” A huff of frustration escaped her mouth. “Everyone was _so_ fascinated with her, including that dude I was sort of involved with. Not that I was in love with him or anything” the thought seemed to positively horrify her, much to Enjolras’ delight, “but- I had to fight for every scrap of attention, for everything really, and she just- she didn’t. She didn’t look like she had at least and she kept getting praises and high marks, it seemed so effortless and it was so infuriating. And I don’t know, I never really saw past that I guess. Especially the dude part, which, in hindsight, was truly, truly stupid. I bumped into him last week and he’s a colossal douchebag, I’m so glad I dodged that one.”

Obviously Enjolras didn’t know the man but he was more than willing to take her word for it. Because she seemed to be quite a good judge of character, not because of some kind of misplaced jealousy, of course not.

“You were a kid, Éponine. Besides, we all make mistakes.”

She threw him a strange look over the rim of her — his — champagne flute before lowering it, her retort more important than the bubbles. “Easy for you to say, you always say the right thing at the right time, it’s killing me.”

A very ironic choice of words, in Enjolras’ opinion. On many, many levels.

He smirked, tilting his head towards her. “But if I didn’t, people could actually get killed sometimes Doc.”

The joke fell flat, he realised as she served him one of her coldest glares. Maybe it was too soon for them to have a laugh about his job. Maybe, yeah, but Enjolras had an inkling they would never quite get there, not when he had to keep her in the dark.

She was about to hit with what was undoubtedly a harsh remark when the birthday girl inserted herself between them in a whirlwind of pastel tones, abruptly pushing Enjolras in the process. He groaned, both at the slight pain in his side and the loss of Éponine’s hand in the crook of his elbow, but none of the two women seemed to hear him. Well, that was just peachy.

“Maman said you were here Ép, I wasn’t sure she’d actually met you because I didn’t know you’d be free tonight- especially when she started describing your dress, I was so not expecting that but God, you look phenomenal! And you’re here, you’re really here, I’m _so_ glad!” Cosette jabbered, enveloping the doctor into one of her infamous bone-crushing hugs.

Oh yeah, she was happy. Happier than Enjolras had ever seen her when _he_ showed up to dinner. A little tipsy too, probably.

Over her shoulder, Éponine was still looking at him, silently asking for help until she got released by a beaming Cosette.

“You didn’t have to leave your guests for me” the brunette smiled nervously.

“Nonsense. It might be my birthday but it’s also my party and I’ll be damned if I’m not playing my hostess role to the fullest.” Fantine had taught her well. “Alex” she added irreverently, the look of fake annoyance refuted by the happiness shining in her aquamarine eyes. 

Things had gone back to normal quite quickly after their little quarrel in her kitchen, as they always did after any fight, no matter how loud the shouts and how spiteful the words, although he knew he had hurt her a little more this time. That and she actually liked making him squirm, which he more than deserved on that one. Plus, it was her birthday party so he decided to let it slide.

“Happy to see you too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know” she dismissed him with a circular flourish and turned to her former classmate with a smile bright enough to lit up the entire flat, “come on Ép, I _need_ to introduce you to my father!”

Éponine turned to Enjolras in panic as she was dragged away by a rather enthusiastic — and definitely quite tipsy — Cosette but he simply grinned at her, laughter bubbling in his chest. After all, he couldn’t fight the birthday girl’s wishes, not tonight at least.

“A friend of yours Alexandre?” Fantine reappeared by his side, following his gaze.

She chuckled at her daughter’s antics as the women reached the other side of the room where the General was entertaining his most estimated guest before she planted herself in front of him again. 

Oh, so there was no escaping her then, lovely. _Like mother like daughter_ , Enjolras thought as he tore his eyes away from Éponine’s back.

“Something like that, yes” he acquiesced, wondering how much of this conversation would be disclosed to his parents. His mother, mostly, since he knew she still phoned Fantine on a weekly basis.

And she wouldn’t ask, his mother, not directly at least. The woman was far too subtle and knew him too well to inquire about his personal life. Unlike the feisty doctor, his parents did rather well with secrecy and had accepted the burden of it from day one, when he had first applied for his current position. They always let him lead the conversation, only asking vague questions every now and then about his life in Compiègne. 

“You’re not gonna let anything slip, are you?” Fantine tutted, shaking her head. “Fine by me but I’d work on my poker face if I were you, you’re not fooling me my child, I’ve known you too long. It’s been a while since you’ve looked at someone this way.”

How could he have fooled anyone else when he couldn’t even trap himself in denial and delusion? But Enjolras wasn’t about to argue nor try to convince Cosette’s mother, of all people. 

If lying between friends wasn’t permitted, misleading a friend’s parents seemed like the kind of grey area Enjolras was willing to dive in when necessary. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about ma’am.” 

“Oh that’s such a terrible lie Alexandre” Fantine snickered, patting his shoulder, “but I’ll allow it. I won’t even say a word to your mother but just so you know, it’s really nice to see you so happy. It suits you.”

And with a wink, she was gone, leaving him to a turmoil of emotions he couldn’t even douse in champagne. Maybe six years old Enjolras had it easier, all things considered.

Mingling with senior officers proved to be strenuous as his mind — and eyes — kept wandering away from mildly serious conversations to a certain doctor and all the ways he could possibly get her out of her red dress. Cosette seemed to have made it her mission of the night to introduce her to every single one of the guests yet every time they passed by him, Éponine looked a little more relaxed. The champagne flute she still had in her hand was clearly no stranger to her serene state but if the bursts of laughter that kept reaching Enjolras’ ears were anything to go by, she was actually enjoying herself. It was rather refreshing, albeit a little frustrating.

Because he wanted to be by her side, to be the one guiding her through this sea of unknown faces. He wanted her to lean into him like she did earlier and wrap himself in her lavender perfume. Enjolras wanted her, period, but Éponine was out of reach, as usual.

The atmosphere slowly switched around midnight once Cosette’s parents said their goodbyes, retiring for the night, and most of the senior officers quickly followed suit, taking the military decorum home with them. Music was playing, loud enough for a few adventurous guests to shake off the tension of an evening with their superiors — as casual as it was supposed to be, they all had to be on their best behaviour — but not too much to disturb the general and his wife. Enjolras doubted they would reappear and embarrass their daughter but he still frowned when Grantaire howled that the party was finally starting, brandishing a bottle of whiskey in one hand and what was left of the birthday cake in the other.

He was interrupted mid-lecture by none other than Éponine Thénardier. She grabbed his wrist and yanked him to the makeshift dancefloor, a devilish smile on her lips. The lipstick had faded and Enjolras wondered how many glasses bore marks of it, especially when she linked her arms around his neck, pulling him closer than he could remember them being tonight.

“Are you alright Doc?”

Éponine hummed happily, head bobbing as they swayed around. Enjolras could hear the generic pop song and its dynamic tempo, vaguely aware that they were too slow to actually follow the rhythm but he didn’t care. They could’ve been waltzing to nothing but the beat of their hearts for all that matter. She was finally _here_ , with him, and that was all Enjolras could focus on.

“I wanted to dance. With you.” 

It was only a whisper but they were too close for the soldier to miss it. His heart leaped against his ribcage at the confession and Enjolras had to bite his cheek not to blind her with his brightest smile.

He raised an eyebrow when their eyes met. “You know, you could have asked, you can’t abduct people to the dancefloor like this.”

“Oh please” Éponine snickered, “like you couldn’t have stood your grounds if you really wanted to. Or are you saying that a weak little thing like me could, what, manhandle you? Womanhandle? Humanhandle? Why is everything so fucking sexist and binary?”

Leave it to Doctor Thénardier to get political after one too many drinks. He should have known, really.

“Who said you were weak?” he asked softly.

“Me, me, me” Éponine giggled, pearly white teeth biting into her bottom lip. “I’m saying I am weak, very weak right now, Captain. Because I had champagne, it made me all… bubbly inside.”

God, she was adorable.

(And he was so very screwed).

For a second or two, he wondered if Éponine was always this light and elated when intoxicated or if there was more to it than the bubbles. If she had been that ecstatic the night she texted him to meet for coffee. If she had joked about dumping him with her friends between cocktails or beers, whatever her usual poison was. 

(He strongly suspected champagne was kind of a _my parents don’t own stables_ detail. Could see her as a beer girl too.)

Enjolras cleared his throat and tried to push the bitter memories away, determined to savour this moment. “You’re not working tomorrow I hope?” 

“No, mother” she shook her head and curls swirled around her, wrapping them in a cloud of lavender. “I’m a respectable doctor you know.”

“Pretty sure you were nursing a hangover that day when-”

_When you dumped me._

_When you pushed me away._

No, that wouldn’t do.

“When we became friends.”

Thankfully, Éponine was too busy being offended to notice that his smile didn’t really reach his eyes. “I was most certainly _not_. Was I a bit sleep-deprived? Sure and there might have been a teeny tiny headache involved too but I was fine. For the most part. I wouldn’t have gone to work if I really were, it could…” She trailed off, joy waning from her face. “Well, people could die and I can’t let that happen, can I? So I guess we do have something in common after all.”

It wasn’t the first time of his jokes came back yo bite him and it definitely wouldn’t be the last, given that humour was one of the least destructive coping mechanisms he knew, but still, that one stung a little bit. The colder tone of her voice felt like a threat, a familiar one, the starting point of many of their quarrels. Not tonight though.

Tonight, Enjolras didn’t want to argue with her. Didn’t want to give her any reason to flee. Tonight he would play nice.

(As nice as he could when she was driving him crazy.)

“There’s more to us than-” A dissatisfied pout stopped him and he swallowed the laughter that was blooming in his chest. 

“Can we not talk about that now? I just wanna dance” she stomped a foot, picture perfect of a sulking five years old. 

She had been the one to bring it up but her demeanour was endearing, too endearing almost, and they didn’t have the best track record when it came to disagreements, sober. Enjolras truly didn’t want to test her patience under the influence, not when she could easily push the act further and throw a tantrum. Truly didn’t want to see her run away from him either, not when he finally had her in his arms in a relatively private place. As private as a dining room could be with his friends chatting on the side, that is.

She took a step closer, barely missing his feet, and settled against his chest with a satisfied sigh, oblivious to the pandemonium her presence provoked in his entire being. He lost himself in her dark curls, thankful that she had ditched her heels as soon as the room had started emptying itself of the older, more respectable guests. 

Another pop song followed suit, just as cheery and wild as the last, just as lost on them too. Before he closed his eyes, Enjolras caught Cosette, perched on the arm of a couch Marius and Grantaire were draped over, staring at them with such intensity he knew for a fact he would hear about this soirée later. Later, yes, he would reflect back on it and maybe regret a thing or two. Later, when Éponine Thénardier wasn’t so close to his heart anymore.

(Literally, that is.)

Enjolras wasn’t sure how long they danced together — if floating around wrapped each other with no respect whatsoever for the music could be called that — without a word, without as much of a glance for each other but it felt too short when she pulled away with a sleepy smile. 

Éponine yawned and stopped herself from rubbing her eyes, hands twitching over the air before her face. “I should call an Uber.”

Before he could even _think_ , Enjolras heard himself ask “do you want me to drive you home?”

There most definitely was his face next to the definition for glutton of punishment in any good dictionary. 

“It’s not really on the way to Compiègne” Éponine reminded him softly.

It wasn’t indeed, far from it even, but he could use the detour to both spend a little more time with her and then clear his head. A win-win situation for the masochist he clearly was.

“So what, do you really wanna pay for an Uber when I’m offering?” Enjolras retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

It didn’t replace the warmth of her body against his but it was probably better — safer — than risking reaching out for her. Enjolras was sober, sure, but there was only so much frustration he could take.

In lieu of an answer, Éponine rolled her eyes before she went to retrieve her shoes. Enjolras only got confirmation she would, indeed, be riding with him when she mentioned it to Cosette — who, thank God, had the decency to remain as collected as possible. Goodbyes were, all in all, a quick and quiet affair, even with Grantaire’s severe lack of enthusiasm to go back to Compiègne with the newly engaged couple. 

The drive to Éponine’s flat was quiet, despite the non-stop commentary provided by the doctor herself. Much more awake after a couple of minutes on the road than she had been at the Fauchelevents’, she kept whispering as if trying not to disturb anyone living in the buildings they passed by, giggling every now and then behind her hands that would inevitably come up to her face. It was cute, a little surprising and disturbing, even the party, but still, it was rather cute. It felt like the world had just paused for a hot second, worries and consequences forgotten for a bit, and Éponine had just let herself _be_. 

Oh, the wonders of alcohol.

Eventually the car came to a halt near her building and she sighed, asserting her gaze. The party was over and they both knew it.

“Come on, let’s get you home” Enjolras hastily said, expertly unfastening her seatbelt. 

She practically jumped on her seat, turning to him with a frown. “No, I wanna stay in here. It’s a nice car. I like nice cars. But usually they’re owned by dickheads, which you are not.”

The soldier chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “So you’ve said Doc. Multiple times.” 

Probably ten times. Maybe twelve. And it hadn’t been that long of a journey but Éponine apparently talked in circles when tipsy.

“Well, _yes_ ” and it sounded awfully like the annoyed _duh_ Cosette had thrown his way too many times during their teenage years — maybe those two weren’t as different as they thought they were. “I have to repeat myself because you don’t _listen_ Captain, you never do.”

What now?

He tilted his head to the side, a bit confused by the venom in her voice. “I’m sorry?”

How did she go from complimenting his car to mumbling baseless reproaches? After such a nice evening at that. 

“I keep… asking questions and there’s no answer on your part. So you’re either a bad listener or… or you’re a terrible liar?” She didn’t sound too sure of it but clearly, if _that_ was coming out of her mouth when she was under the influence, she must have been thinking about it for a while and it held some sort of truth for her. _In vino veritas_ and all that.

“I never lied to you” he whispered softly, turning to the window.

“You don’t wanna, right?”

“ _What_?”

One of her hands cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her. And boy, she was _close_ , closer than Enjolras had expected. Freeing her from the seatbelt had been a mistake, clearly.

Why on earth did he offer to drive her home again? 

“You don’t wanna lie, that’s why you dodge them all. Am I wrong?”

He closed his eyes for a second, desperately trying to focus on his breathing. Trying to ignore her hand so warm on his cheek and her breath tickling the other one. He could smell it, warm and heavy with the champagne she’d been sipping all night. With anyone else, he would have been annoyed, probably slightly grossed out too, but this was bothering him in ways no one else but her had ever bothered him before. It was too much, the party, her throaty laugh still ringing in his ears, her hands leaving imprints on his shoulders as they swayed to the music, the sinful dress she was still in. It was too much and he didn’t have it in himself to fight back. To keep pretending he wasn’t wondering how soft her lips were whenever they talked or how it’d feel to peel that stupid dress off her now.

Enjolras sighed, defeated. “No, no… you’re right Éponine.”

A soft smile lightened her face when her name left his lips. Oh, how he wished he could kiss it off. But that was off the table. First, because she was drunk, vulnerable, and he wasn’t that kind of man — he _despised_ those men. She had also made it quite clear friendship was the only thing she was after. Or wanted. Needed. Enjolras wasn’t so sure anymore, finding it hard to focus and recall that conversation they had at the hospital. Or how she dumped his sorry ass, really.

“That’s my thing” she whispered like she was sharing her most precious secret.

“What the-”

“Like some people are into dirty talk or spanking or getting tied up-”

Sweet Jesus. Those were definitely the last things he needed to hear right now. But it was too late, the words were already hanging in the air and his head was flooded with _thoughts_ much too graphic — the kind of thoughts that made you really appreciate the safety and privacy of your own mind. And Enjolras was very much appreciating it. Or would have, if the object of his fantasies wasn’t spouting erotic nonsense right under his nose as one of her hands was caressing his cheek.

“Me? It really gets me going when people admit I was right. I mean, I’ve never trusted anyone to tie me up before but I can see the appeal” she went on, absentmindedly, her fingertips mapping his cheekbone, “like surrendering control and just trusting your partner to the fullest, I mean, that’s hot. Trust is sexy. Very sexy. You’re very trustworthy Captain” she smirked at him and he felt his whole face warm up, “at least until you start talking shop. Or not talking I guess? But back to the me being right part. You gotta say it again, that was _so_ hot. I should ask other people to say it too, to see if it makes me wanna jump them like it makes me wanna jump you. For science, you know?”

For science, yeah, right.

“Look Doc, you gotta stop-”

“Or maybe that’s just a _you_ thing” she scrunched her nose, not quite convinced by her own theory, “it doesn’t make me feel this way at work and not to brag, but I’m a hell of a doctor so it does happen a lot, people telling me that. Olivia, sometimes Combeferre too and he won't admit but I know he _hates_ it. Yeah, that’s definitely a you thing.”

It took him a good second to realise what was happening when her warm mouth slotted over his. Only one second in that car but a whole evening of wanting, too many months of missing. One second but enough to send him over the edge and throw all plans of distance and friendship out the window.

She moaned against his lips as she felt him respond, whimpering when he grabbed her hips, ruffling the fabric. A bit too rough, maybe, but he couldn’t bring himself to care whether or not it would damage that goddamn dress. It had taunted him for the past few hours, it didn’t deserve to be handled with care.

But _her_.

Éponine. She did. She deserved that, she deserved more. More than a hasty snog in a car. More than him losing it over a stupid dress when she was drunk, when the next mission was only — oh _God_.

Drunk. She was drunk. She was drunk and he had only sipped half of a flute, hours ago.

Enjolras abruptly broke away from her lips and leaned back as far the driver’s door allowed him. Éponine tried to chase after him, pouting at first, then she opened her eyes.

“Ép-”

Her hands fell to her thighs as she retracted to her seat, cheeks bright red in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry” she said, her voice raspier than it had been earlier, “we’re friends, I know, I’m a mess, I just, you’re just so-” her hands flew to her curls with a frustrated snarl, “you’re just so good to me and tonight was just- you look so good, you know that? And the champagne and I, I-”

Enjolras had to stop her. He _had_ to, before she would say that would haunt them both for months on end.

“I’m leaving in two days.” 

Time, again, was working against them but Enjolras was partially to blame this time. He had had many opportunities to spring the news on her and yet hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. Excuses, as usual, had been easy to find. They were only friends, she strongly disliked his job and he couldn’t give her many details, so why bother to notice her of his imminent departure for another country? Easy ones, mixed with the others that he would rather ignore, the ones that made everything so much more complicated.

As if their situation was simple to begin with.

Éponine sucked in a shaky breath. “Another long meeting?”

“Yes. Humanitarian mission” it felt like a lie, rolling off his tongue, “I’ll be away for a few months, I don’t-” _I don’t wanna do this to you._ He did, yes, but not like, not now, not here. “God, Doc, you have no idea how much I want this, you, but I can’t- not like this, alright?” He reached for her before he could stop himself and cupped her cheek, fingertips dancing along her hairline. “Not when you’re drunk and I’m two days away from leaving the country for so long.”

Éponine leaned into his hand with a sigh, her eyes fluttering nervously. “That’s both the lamest and best excuse I’ve ever heard.”

She kissed his palm and with a sad smile, she left the car. The front door of the building had long closed on her stumbling frame when Enjolras finally drove away into the night, lips still tingling with champagne.

* * *

If Alexandre Enjolras was quite good at following orders, he was also rather skilled at giving them, the well-being and efficiency of his team at the forefront of his mind whenever he had to take a decision. His men never doubted his judgement nor did they discuss any call he made.

But of course, Éponine Thénardier wasn’t one of his subordinates and when he decided to give her — them, really, if he was honest and it had proven difficult when it came to her — some space, she just _had_ to mess with the plan.

Perhaps it didn’t help that Enjolras had failed to go over said plan with her.

Truth be told, part of him had hoped she’d contact him after sleeping off her hungover. But she hadn’t, not once, and Enjolras interpreted her silence as a tacit agreement to said plan. 

On the morning of the day he was supposed to fly off for Mali, her name flashed on the screen of his phone. Repeatedly. Excuses were found, once again. He wasn’t totally awake at first, he was having breakfast with the lads then, there was a briefing with Command after that. Panic pushed him to pocket the phone, every time.

He didn’t know what to tell her, wasn’t sure how to apologise. They had crossed a line. _He_ had crossed a line and Enjolras had no idea how they could recover from that. 

Terrifying. It was terrifying.

His ears were still ringing with General Fauchelevent’s recommendations when he somehow found the courage to tap the green button as another call was coming through.

“How nice of you to pick up. Fucking finally!” 

Oh, how happy he was that Éponine didn’t decide to pay him a visit in person.

Enjolras grimaced, desperately chasing after one of the good, very good excuses he always had at the ready. Not quite a lie, not quite the truth either, a little something in between that could satisfy other people and save his ass. This time though, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be enough. “I’ve been-”

“Busy?” Éponine suggested before he could even breathe out the word. “Doing what, actively avoiding me?”

Technically, yes. 

_Friends don’t lie_.

Damn Pontmercy and his stupid, goodhearted logic.

“That’s what I thought” Éponine hissed when it became clear he wouldn’t reply. “You were gonna leave without saying goodbye, right?”

“Doc-”

“Don’t. _Don’t_ ” she let out a high-pitched, mirthless laugh. An awfully familiar note from a song he knew all too well by now. “Am I really that pathetic that I’m not even worth a goodbye text?”

“You’re not pathetic, you gotta stop with that.”

There was definitely more to this than her anger but that was a conversation for another day. Preferably when he wouldn’t be on base, within earshot of a bloody general, when she wouldn’t be able to shut him off as easily as hanging up was. 

A couple of officers left the General’s office and Enjolras saluted them again, ignoring the string of muffled curses falling into his ear. He waited until they disappeared around the corner to throw himself back into the excruciating phone call.

“Look, I just- I know you’ll ask questions and I can’t give you the answers you want and we both know how frustrating it is for you-”

“Oh, you’re so noble, trying to spare me like this” Éponine perored. 

Would she, ever, let him finish without interrupting? Probably not, no. She was as stubborn as he was and twice as confident in her opinions, _of course_ she would try to get the last word.

“I did what I thought was best for the both of us” Enjolras insisted, pinching the bridge of his nose, “so yeah, forgive me for wanting to leave on a rather good note. But I guess that was too much to ask” he added before he could stop himself.

Adding fuel to the fire when he was a couple of hours away from an eight-months-long mission wasn’t a smart move, he knew that, but it had been easier, back at the Fauchelevents’, to avoid any conflict. He had had something to hold onto then, something fragile yes but oh so delightful, a fleeting moment of truce that was long gone today. There was nothing to salvage right now and his own frustration found its source in hers. 

“Fuck you!” Éponine barked, so loudly Enjolras wouldn’t be surprised if the general heard it too. “You could have told me that, how was I supposed to guess, uh? I don’t live in your head.”

Clearly bad timing wasn’t their only issue but miscommunication wasn’t exactly the nicest flavour to add to the mix, although that one was on Enjolras. He should’ve called her.

(Should’ve refused that preposterous friendship offer, should’ve given her a call before South America, should’ve told on day one that it would be hard and frustrating. He knew all of that and yet still stood by every single decision.)

A tired sigh left his lips. “But it feels like you do sometimes”

“Don’t.”

“I thought-”

“You think a lot Captain but you’re way off most of the time.”

Enjolras felt his heart sink to his stomach.

“Am I?” he blurted, struggling to keep his voice down. “It might be because you keep giving me really mixed signals.”

He was heading down a slippery slope if there was ever one but months of frustration and missed opportunities had pushed him over the edge. 

“I beg your pardon?” There was a hint of surprise in her voice. Or was it confusion?

“ _You_ kissed me, Éponine” the soldier clarified, ignoring the little Marius-like voice in his head that was loudly pointing out how unfair it was to put the blame on her when she had been quite intoxicated, “you said you wanted to be friends and then you _kissed_ me.”

Her response came quickly, too quickly. Like Éponine had prepared herself for this — and she probably had, Enjolras realised. After all, he had given her plenty of time to do so.

“It was a mistake.”

The four words sent his heart plummeting even lower.

“Which part, exactly?”

A dumb, very dumb question. The answer was crystal clear in his mind, blinding and bitter, wrapped in regrets. That kiss, that bloody kiss. 

Éponine didn’t say so, not in so many words, but she didn’t need to. 

“That’s what I thought” Enjolras sneered, rolling his eyes. “Look, I really don’t have time for this right now. I’m sorry I didn’t call but I honestly thought you wanted space and quite frankly, I had my plate full with this mission’s prep.”

That much wasn’t a lie. Leaving base for months on end was a rare occurrence that required a great deal of preparation. 

“How long will you be gone? Are you _allowed_ to at least tell me that?”

So she remembered their kiss but _not_ what they had talked about. Lovely, really.

“Eight months at best. Probably more, I don’t know.”

At this point, he almost wished there would be an additional couple of months. Ten months away from France — and Éponine — seemed like a great idea right now.

“Well, thank God we didn’t sleep together the other night, I could’ve welcomed you home with a baby when you come back” Éponine quipped, as if she hadn’t cursed him moments ago.

That woman was an enigma, protected by a maelstrom of unpredictable emotions and a seriously weird sense of humour. As stubbornly curious that Enjolras could be, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to navigate and decipher it all anymore. The constant pushing and pulling had him dizzy and losing control wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed, far from it.

If someone needed time and space, it was definitely him. Maybe this mission wouldn’t be so terrible in the end.

“I’m sorry, I- it wasn’t funny” she mumbled after a long pause, “I don’t know what I’m saying. Can you at least tell me where you’re going?”

“Mali.”

“But the army’s already there, Operation Barkhane, isn’t it?”

Well, Éponine was well-informed for someone who despised the army that much. But then again, it wasn’t exactly classified information, the news mentioned it often enough.

“It is” he confirmed curtly.

“So that’s it?”

Maybe it was indeed. Maybe it would be for the best to leave it at that — leave that travesty of a friendship behind like he would his home for the foreseeable future on this bitter, dry note.

Maybe, yeah, and Enjolras didn’t want to but life wasn’t always about making easy choices.

Although stalling seemed like a solid compromise. 

Eight months. Ten, tops. Eight months and he would make a call about this. Or perhaps she would do it for the both of them.

“Éponine, I really don’t have time for this” he said, as calmly as he could, “I just got out of a briefing, I have to go make sure the lads are ready to go and I still gotta talk to my parents.”

Hopefully Fantine had made good on her promise to keep Éponine Thénardier out of her regular chats with his mother. The last thing Enjolras needed now was to hear his parents hint at his private life over the phone. 

“Oh. I thought you just- it’s stupid” the doctor grumbled.

_So that’s it?_

Another mistake, not agreeing with that. One he actually regretted now. Perhaps she would've hung up and the next words would have never left his mouth.

“Doc, I love talking to you, alright?” He sighed and closed his eyes.

One step forward, two steps backward. Ironically, they were going nowhere and yet he was unable to put an end to it all, even now.

“Arguing for a bit doesn’t change that” Enjolras continued, so pathetically eager to reassure her. “There’s bumps and ups and downs in every friendship, it happens. But I really do need to hang up.”

At least that part was true.

(At least this time he actually told her he was leaving. Progress.)

“I understand. I-” Éponine cursed under her breath, her voice too low to carry over the phone. “Take care, yeah? And be careful, please.”

God only knew what was going through her head, what dangers she was picturing him facing. Enjolras wasn’t about to ask. Some particular, very particular things were better left unsaid. 

“I always am.” 

The promise lacked its usual playfulness, sounding rather ill-timed and final, like a goodbye spouted too late. Sure, every mission had its risks and coming home was never a sure thing — except it was different. Somehow, everything about Éponine Thénardier was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I’m still alive and I truly hope you are well, safe and healthy, wherever you are. That being said, I’m genuinely sorry for disappearing, the past year has been absolute hell and things are not looking much better for now, but I’m trying to get my shit together. I’ve kept writing on this absolute monster of a fic because it kept me sane tbh but I’m still not happy with some parts of it (especially the whole “each chapter is basically 20k of everyone getting in their own head” but what can I say, I’m an overthinker who’s convinced everyone’s like me on that front). I know it’s long (and I’m 100% blaming DOTS for this because I totally outlined my work around the show and its 16 episodes, so of course, an episode a chapter makes for very, very long chapters) and I’ve kinda fucked up by trapping myself into this alternating POV thing but at the same time… I kinda like it, Idk, and I’m gonna spice things up in a couple of chapters so [insert an awkward shrug here]. Anyway, I’m gonna keep writing and rewritings bits and cutting out chunks (that I will most likely rewrite again the next week) as I go. So let’s play it safe and not talk publishing schedule because deadlines terrify me. Also life is hectic, Idk if I’m gonna be able to find any internship or even graduate so, yeah.
> 
> Again, I wanna thank every person who took time out of their day/night/whenever to bookmark this and/or leave kudos and/or comment since I last updated this fanfic. I know it took me forever to reply but I appreciate it (and you, you wonderful beans) so, so, so much. I squealed like a happy baby when I saw them in my inbox (also I gotta switch my email address because I absolutely did not see any of it until very recently… unless AO3 does not notify people of interactions on their fics? Idk, I’m kinda new at this). Thank you thank you thank you, you’ve made this mess of a human being so happy!
> 
> As I said, it’s unbeta’d so typos and weird syntax (did I mention that English isn’t my first language? because it’s not) may occur on a regular basis. Les Misérables has been public domain for a while now but obviously the characters are Victor Hugo’s. The plot is heavily inspired by the korean drama ‘Descendants of the Sun’ (available on Netflix). I would like to mention (and insist) on the fact that not all military details and/or events mentioned in this has happened in real life. I’ve been doing a lot of research (which might grant me access to ‘some weirdos to watch’ lists lmao) and I’m sticking to some real facts (such as geography because duh) but there’s a lot of fictional shit that I made up (mostly because the Internet doesn’t have all the answers I seeked and I had to simplify a bunch of stuff for my own sake). However, like I said in the notes at the beginning, some stuff is real (like the military operation in Mali) and while I do not intend to disrespect, offend or hurt anyone, I wanna apologise in advance if anything does so. Please, if it does, feel free to mention it and I will edit this right away. The outside world is shitty and hurtful enough as it is and the last thing I want is making anyone feel bad.
> 
> To wrap the disclaimer bit, the title of the fic comes from a song by Rhys Lewis, ‘Things You Can’t Change’ (give this man’s discography a listen but don’t forget to have tissues at the ready, 80% of it is absolutely heartbreaking) and that chapter was named after Regina Spektor’s Two Birds. I’ve actually put all the songs related to this fic in a nice lil playlist, so [here it is](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2kXwsyE6vDBMlgdgewAXso?si=6If2hg9DSFCpPEkiEJYV7A) if that’s your thing (fair warning, all the unpublished chapters’ titles are in there in order so… it’s not exactly a spoiler but you’ve been warned). And [there’s a moodboard](https://www.pinterest.fr/valtrashen/f-can-you-tell-that-i-want-you/) because as usual, Spotify and Pinterest are key elements to my writing, be it fics or rp.
> 
> I now realise that I’ve rambled way more than I initially planned to but hey, I’ve been selfquarantining since last March and my only human interactions are with the dudes who deliver my groceries twice a month and that one (1) friend who’s kind and brave enough to drive up to my place every few weeks to check on me. So please don’t hate me? Anyway, hope you liked that one and yes, yes, that fic will be complete at some point, promise. Take care, congrats to you if you’ve made it this far in my messy notes, have a good day/night and don’t forget to stay hydrated! Sending all the love and good vibes in your direction!


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